


Din Cabed ((currently on hiatus))

by Lady_Katana4544



Series: Cast Out [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adapting To New Changes, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bifur is both secretly and not so secretly a bit of a shipper, Blends both movieverse and bookverse canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Cultural Differences, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Elf Culture & Customs, F/M, Families of Choice, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hobbit Flower Language, Hurt/Comfort, In which Thorin glowers through the story, Interspecies Relationship(s), Protective Dwarves, Size Difference, Slow Build, Thranduil does not pretend at all to be a nice guy, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/pseuds/Lady_Katana4544
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first leap is quiet, the noise that follows after is always the loudest.</p><p>In which an Elf makes a choice to help that costs her everything she has ever known in a world she wants to understand.</p><p>((Note: On hiatus))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> * According to the Elvish word list I found while writing this, 'Din Cabed', means silent leap.
> 
> * This piece was inspired by a prompt from imaginexhobbit on tumblr, _Imagine being the one elf to leave Thranduil’s side when the dwarves need help during Smaug’s first attack_
> 
> * The first bit in italics is a past conversation.
> 
> (As the story progresses I will gradually add more tags to this)

_“Ada?”_

_“Yes, sweetling?”_

_A tiny hand grasps gently on the larger wrist as the little elfling clamors for her father’s attention even while he is tending to the youngest of his children._

_“What is the meaning of the day’s lesson? Is it to defend the smallest creature from harm when they can not defend themselves, to help them when they need it most... or does it mean something different?”_

_Her father laughs softly, a gentle musical sound that she always takes delight in hearing, the youngest child finally falls asleep as he turns to her and picks her up with a gentle smile as he takes her to her own bed._

_“You were always the smart one like your mother. The lesson is what you make of it in the end. But that is the answer that I have always derived from that particular one.”_

_“Love you, Ada.”_

_“I love you too, my sweetling. Now it is time for bed.”_

The child grows into a beautiful young maiden, who contemplates following the path of weapons more than the wants of her own heart. That same young maiden then becomes a quietly stern woman.

It was that lesson that her elders and father had taught her, that stayed in the front of her heart. To defend and protect others while helping helping them if allowed too. It was an easy and yet hard lesson to learn and remember as she became older and wiser with her peers - yet at the same time wondering if King Oropher had taught it to his son while he was growing.

Even going as far as to hold a command position in the King’s army.

She knew that she attracted the attention of many, including that of King Oropher, as she fought for her place among the warriors. Wishing to prove that she was just skilled as they were, if not better than some of them. Something that seemed to amused the King greatly in the years before his death and his son took the throne.

As King Thranduil settled into his power and relations with their neighbors festered like a diseased wound, while she did not understand why she did her best to impart wisdom of the lessons she had learned from her father and elders to the young bold elves under her command.

Even if they fell upon deaf ears.

0

Centuries and their years pass to the void as the world slowly changes and the Greenwood slowly turns dark from a poison that she has yet to understand why the King turns away from.

She had been cleaning and sharpening her daggers, while her newly cleaned sword sat on her bed next to the bow that her father had commissioned for her when the call to arms rang out through the city.

Sheathing her daggers, she is quick to put on her armor and puts her bow along her back with the sword. She makes sure that her silver hair is tightly secure in its long single braid as she reaches for her helmet. 

Helmet sitting on her head, she moves quickly then out of her room ignoring the concerned gazes of her two siblings and is organizing the troop rotation as Thranduil rides up on his mount.

They share a silent nod, before the king calls for them to move out.

She’s not sure what she expects them to find and be to do anything about when they get to their destination. Dale in flames and smoke rising out from Erebor as Dwarves and Men alike shriek in terror.

Why King Thranduil stops on the crest of hill instead of descending to help either unsettles her heart and the strength in following her King drains away.

“Help! Help us!”

The call for their aid reaches her ears and her eyes find the speaker, a young Dwarven prince with black hair and blue-grey eyes that hold fear for the survival of his people and a plea for help that she cannot find the strength in her heart to ignore.

Then Thranduil makes the motion for the army to depart and this time she does not follow his commands.

She cannot follow, not in the face of so much destruction and someone calling for their aid. So her feet begin to step in the opposite direction of her kin.

“Stop.”

“I cannot. They need help. Our help.”

“The Dwarves have brought this upon themselves. Sadly for Dale as well. They do not deserve our help.”

He stops following his army and pins her with a look as she glares up at him from under her helmet.

“Know that you risk banishment from the Greenwood if you stay on this course.”

“So be it.”

She turns away from her former King and kin to race down the hill towards the Dwarf Prince watching them, her heart in pain yet finding strength in the path that she has now chosen to follow. As his people race out of Erebor behind him, the young Dwarf meets her halfway, looking sternly concerned she guesses at the fact that there are no others following her.

“Will you help us?”

“I have come to do so.”

“Why do the rest of your kind not follow you?”

“The King of the Greenwood has ordered them to retreat. I did not agree and have come to help you.”

The young Prince nods slightly, looking somewhat angry at her words. She nods towards the crowd of Dwarves behind them.

“Lead them to safety, young Lord. I will venture forth and locate those who have not yet come out of the mountain.”

He nods slightly and turns away from her, running back to join his people and helping an injured Dwarf get to somewhere safe as she heads swiftly into Erebor. It takes a great deal of stealth to avoid fires in the mountain as well as the rampaging great drake taking over the Dwarf stronghold - Eru above she hopes to never meet it in combat - and two hours later she is gently leading several shocked adult Dwarves out of the mountain with two Dwarflings held under both arms and a young female Dwarf wearing burned royal robes wrapped tightly around her neck.

Together the small group stumbles over rocky outcroppings to fields far enough away from the smoking mountain that the Dwarves have claimed.

A pleased cry rents the air as her group is seen and the young Prince she briefly spoke to before comes to meet them followed by another young Dwarf, likely his brother, and an older Dwarf along with several others. All of them armed and their weapons aimed in her direction.

As the two groups meet, she kneels on one knee and lets her armful of young Dwarflings free to go where they wish as their elders enthusiastically greet each other while she stands watching at the edge of the group.

“Dís!”

“Thorin! Frerin! Adad!”

For a scant few moments as Dwarves embrace each other, she feels lost and doesn’t quite know what to do with herself as she looks to the open sky above them, watching as birds of all kinds fly away from the areas around Dale and Erebor.  
A soft touch on her wrist has her looking down to meet to the eyes of a young blonde Dwarf, who grins at her.

“Thank you for rescuing my sister. I also think you should stay and help us more.”

She notes the sudden quiet stillness in the Dwarves around them, watching her and the young Dwarf with incredulous mistrustful eyes. In her heart she did not regret her choice, but she knew that they would be waiting for her to give them an excuse to chase her away from the group.

She tilts her head at him as she eyes the silent glowering Dwarves assembled behind them.

“Only if your elders allow it to be so, youngling.”

0

As the days became months following the destruction of Erebor, she has shed her golden elf armor, putting it away in one of two deer skin packs that she had made after a successful hunt, settling for dark boots, brown leather vambraces, a simple tan tunic, and pants as well grey cloak.

Grudgingly they had let her stay with them so long as she did not willfully cause them trouble and she stayed near the fringes of the group, ever watchful for the dangers and enemies of the world that could strike down a Dwarf, who was careless about their surroundings.

She was also somewhat reluctantly named a Dwarf friend to her eternal quiet amusement. In her mind, she knows her kin would likely be horrified by the title and idea that an Elf could be considered a friend to Dwarves.

The younger dwarfs more trusting than their scowling elders would come to her and demand any tales that she held within her mind to be shared with them. 

A couple of those times the second Prince would come and keep her company while his more serious siblings watched them both from a distance with their stern faced father.

On one such visit, he joined her at night with a guard keeping a respectful distance from her little spot and watched with glittering dark eyes on the other side of her fire pit as she silently cleaned her sword, waiting for the young dwarf to speak his thoughts.

“You have some skills in the ways of hunting right?”

She nods once, keeping a blank mask on her face as she keeps most of her sword cleaning her voice soft as she answers the question.

“Yes, I do. Most elves of the Greenwood do. If they are brave enough to want to survive the forest that is.”

He releases a soft huff of breath at her quiet answer and she hears him shift his weight on his feet.

“Would you be willing to teach your skill to me or the others?”

Blinking quickly at the question, she stopped her task and placed the sword on her lap before calmly looking to the young Royal.

“What need would a Royal Dwarfling have to learn the skills of an elf?”

“Not a Dwarfling.”

“Save for some of your elders and perhaps your King, the rest of you are Dwarflings to my eyes.”

The Dwarf frowns before he smiles slightly at the question and the words shared between them.

“Frerin, son of Thrain. Before this mess, Erebor was my entire world and its gone just gone. I want to learn skills to survive the world around us.”

She tilts her head slightly, watching him quietly as they both ignoring the quieter shift of movement from the guard.

“And you think I am the one to learn such skills from.”

He grins brightly and reaches a hand out to her.

“Indeed I do.”

She takes the offered hand with a slight tiny smile of her own.

“Well met, Frerin, son of Thrain. I am Liasia, daughter of Tanyr.”

Frerin smiles even as his guard moves closer in their direction.

“Well met, friend Liasia.”

Even now months later, her heart still cries for the forest of the Greenwood and the warmth in the arms of those that remain of her family. But she knows that Thranduil would not allow her to return from banishment after disobeying a direct order to retreat and not help in the wake of dragon fire.

0

Slowly young Dwarves and a few of the older ones come to her, including Frerin and his brother Thorin, teaching them basic hunting skills that only Frerin seems eager to learn under the watchful eyes

Winter forces them all to settle and camp in a little valley where the Dwarves set the camp near a steep wall of rock at their backs for protection and she settles in a cave she found near the mouth of the valley that gives her a view of the rest of the valley.

A day after finding her little cave, she is perched on a ledge watching the white valley for signs of danger when three Dwarves approach her.

“Mistress Elf?”

She turns her head to look at her new companions and bows her head to them slightly before turning her attention back to her task as the grey haired Dwarf comes up to her side while the darker haired Dwarf stays about a pace or two behind them both with a scowl firmly on his face.

Whereas their companion with a floppy brown hat stands much closer to them both.

“Master Dwarf, what can I do for you?”

For a few moments, the Dwarf is silent as he stares at the white valley before them.

“I’m sure you know, lass, that there are many here who wonder why you have stayed with us this long. Myself included.”

She glances at them from the corner of her eye, noting that they all seem to be watching her in turn. She has heard their not so quiet whispers even as they try to keep quiet before resorting to using their native tongue.

“Will your King be asking me to leave, Master Dwarf?”

He shakes his head quickly at the question even as the Dwarf behind them snorts softly in the rising wind. Even the Dwarf with the floppy brown hat shakes his head just as quickly.

“No lass, nothing like that. My people simply wish to know why you remain with us instead of returning to your people.”

She ignores the sting of sadness in her heart and works to keep her face from showing anything through her mask of calm.

“You may tell your leaders that I cannot return to my homeland. For on the day the dragon came, I made a choice to help that did not sit well with Lord Thranduil. And because of that I cannot return.”

For a few moments, the three Dwarves are silent at her answer and she wonders if she is imagining sensing the feelings of anger rolling off the Dwarf with the floppy hat as the grey haired Dwarf finally nods even as he gives her a piercing look that feels as though he can see the sadness in her very soul.

“Thank you for your honesty lass. I will share what you told with my King. Lass?”

“Yes?”

He smiles slightly.

“I am Balin, son of Fundin. The fellow a pace behind us is my brother, Dwalin.”

She nods once, managing a small smile. 

“Well met, Master Balin. I am Liasia, daughter of Tanyr.”

She watches in silence as Balin departs with his brother back towards the Dwarven camp and turns her attention to the Dwarf that still remained, watching her with a quiet expression on his (normally expressive that she has seen in passing) face.

“Did you need something, Master…?”

He shakes his head with a small grin and offers his hand to her.

“Name’s Bofur, lassie. To answer your question, I had been wondering where you were staying since you don’t stay in the main camp with my people?”

She tilts her head a bit to the left watching the earnest expression on his face as she grasps his hand in turn before she looks left towards her cave and goes towards it with the intention to be near a warm fire knowing that he would follow her gaze and likely follow her to it.

“Well met, Bofur. I have no wish to trouble your people with my continued presence any more than I already do, so I stay in that cave there, Master Bofur, and keep a watch on the rest of the valley. Until your people decide to leave this place then this is where I stay and keep watch.”

She watches Bofur move around the cave, muttering to himself about the strength of the rock around and whether or not it might collapse around them. 

All the while she fights hard to ignore the waves of song that has burst to life in her heart as she watches quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

A Dwarf. 

Matters of the heart are not something that she is familiar with, when she has always been dedicated to following her duty and learning how not to harm herself with her weapons. In all the centuries she has spent dedicated to one path, she had never considered how to ever ask her father to tell her about matters of the heart.

Where she knows much about the courting rites her kind follows through many years of observation. She knows nothing of how Dwarves court their mates or anything about their culture as it is. 

In her heart, she has many doubts however that the Dwarves would accept an Elf wanting to court one of their own. King Thranduil most certainly would not have allowed for it to come to pass.

So she forces her mind to not think about the songs flowing in her heart and focuses on the now. Focusing on how to survive in the new world she has placed herself into and somehow among the Dwarves she has chosen to follow.

Focusing her attention on such matters is better than being focused on something that cannot be.

But her heart doesn’t let the matter go and Bofur invites her to stay in a tent that he shares with a stern older cousin (Bifur), a younger brother (Bombur), and the pretty dwarrowdam (Aerona) that Bombur had begun courting not even three days before the dragon attacked. They had scowled and stared when Bofur had forced her to join them in their tent. 

Though they grudgingly accepted her presence in the end.

Bofur, a surprisingly kind Dwarf appeared unwilling to accept that Elf maiden would rather stay in a cold cave than in a warm tent with company.

He merely grins and winks one eye in response to her stare.

“Think of it as a way for my people to get used to you being amongst us.”

Ironically it appears to be fate that their tent happens to be near the sons of Fundin, their father, and the tent of the remaining royal family. Balin’s eyes hold amusement in their depths when he spots her coming out of the tent one day and she freezes.

“Well this is certainly an interesting sight.”

She shrugs helplessly before she moves to join him.

“Master Bofur, doesn’t appear to be one who accepts a negative response to an extended invitation.”

“No. He is certainly not one to take no for answer if he does anything.”

The young Dwarf laughs softly at her statement as she glances around them at the snow. Some of it had begun to thaw which means the animals nearby would be awakening with the first touches of Spring. Which also meant that the Dwarves would likely be picking up their camp soon and heading for warmer climes.

An idea forms in her mind and she looks at Balin.

“Master Balin, I would wonder if you assist me in a small matter?”

He gives her a serious look as he stares at her for the unexpected words.

“That would be depend on what you would be asking of me, Mistress Liasia.”

At that she smiles slightly, glancing outwards the valley before looking back at him.

“I would only ask of you to speak with Lord Thráin for me. See if he will grant me a moment of his time. A private audience if you will.”

There’s a frown in his voice, but not on the Dwarf’s face.

“And what will you be doing while I do this?”

“Hunting in the forest. I would return before your Lords decide to move the people elsewhere.”

Slowly he nods.

“Very well. I shall see what I can do.”

She nods her thanks before returning inside of the tent and informed Bofur of her intention to go hunting followed by when to expect her return, he only smiles kindly and nods his understanding.

How this one Dwarf makes her heart sing, is something she still has yet to understand.

And so she departs for the forest, nodding slightly to Dwalin where he stands at the edge of the camp with a few Guards.

As she enters the forest, her heart sings its gladness and grief to be once more among the trees of a nameless forest that is not the forest she was born too.

Two days later she returns from a successful hunt with the treated fur skins and meat of two brown Great Bears that had taken separately offense to her being in their territory the moment they had laid eyes on each other.  
She also makes sure capture, kill, and skin a few other animals for their meat as well as their hides to perhaps use as packs or clothes.

When she enters the camp, it is to a rising clamor of Dwarven voices speaking in their native tongue. Balin and Bofur approach her, Bofur openly eying the items that she has carried back from her trip into the forest.

Balin looks at her with a closed expression that somehow reminds her of her father and makes her feels centuries younger.

“Lord Thráin has agreed to have an audience. Understand that we will be watching you, lass. Make any false moves and we will act.”

She nods once.

“I understand. Thank you, Master Balin.”

He sighs and leads her over to the main tent of the royal family, she gives her weapons to one of the guards before following Balin into the pipeweed scented tent. A lingering glance tells her that King Thrór is oddly not present and the floor of the tent is covered in some rugs that they had managed to find somewhere, but that Lord Thráin is accompanied by his three children; his sons kneeling on his left and his young daughter on his right.

The Dwarf Lord eyes her appraisingly as his children long on quietly and she tries hard to ignore the shiver that wants to run its way through her body, though she thinks that she sees a glint of amusement in Frerin’s dark eyes and quiet concern in the eyes of his older brother. The gaze from Dís, is harder is to read than her father and brothers.

“She-Elf. Imagine my surprise when one of my advisors tells that you wish request an audience with me and then disappear into the surrounding forest only to reappear two days later. What sort of game are you playing?”

She kneels on the floor and meets his gaze steadily, finding it easier to be at their eye level rather forcing them to look up at her and she hears the surprised draws of breath all around her at the action.

“No game, Lord. I thank you for allowing this chance to speak with you when you and yours have no reason to trust in my kind.”

“Indeed. What do you want?”

She regards him seriously as he and all other eyes in the tent bore into her and forces herself to continue down the path that she had chosen to take on a day that now seemed so long ago, calmly breathing in the scent of the pipe weed she has yet to identify.

“There is… a certain kind of wisdom in making allies where one can, Lord. This is something that I have learned well during my time walking this earth. I have requested this audience, because I wish to be more than the unwanted Elf that guards your people from the fringes and teaches a Dwarfling Prince a few hunting skills. My only wish for requesting this audience with you, great Lord, is to pledge my service, innumerable centuries of experience, and my life to the line of Durin. To you and your family.”

There are several beats of silence where no one speaks, no one seems to even breathe and just watches as Lord Thráin stares at her in silence before he shares a long silent look that is yet somehow it is a speaking look with his eldest son. Whom she dizzily realizes is their Crown Prince.

Eventually the young Dwarf gives a slight nod and Thráin turns his attention back to her as the atmosphere of the tent seems to change as thought it was becoming charged.

“Why do you offer this to us?”

Hearing the question her heart tightens with emotion that she refuses to acknowledge.

“I can do nothing else, Lord, and I have little among my own remaining possessions that I could offer to someone of your station. The world I knew before the dragon’s attack became an unreachable, distant dream and I must find my place in this world if I am to survive in it. And I have chosen to do this with your people whether or not I am accepted.”

She swallows once refusing to break their locked gaze.

“I also offer you and your family the spoils of the first Spring hunt. The fur skins and the meat are yours to do with as you wish.”

More silence fills the tent as everyone stares between her and Lord Thráin, whose eye seems to become hardened steel like the blade of her sword. Then he startles everyone including her by laughing loudly.

“A She-Elf with a spine made of steel, offering her service and life to my people. To my _family_. Never did I think I would live to witness that. Very well, Lady elf, I accept your vow of service to my people and I.”

0

Two months pass and their group settles in the hills near Dunland, most of the Dwarves accept her though there are others who don’t. Privately she wonders if she is part of the reason why other Dwarves won’t accept them.

And watches as the Crown Prince sets out in disguise with others to be gone for days or even weeks at a time. Yet always returning, sometimes with the appearance of having aged while out in the world.

It isn’t something that she thinks often about given what her duties have grown into. She herself hunts and sometimes takes a Dwarf or two with her on the short trip, usually only with those Dwarves that actually seem to like her.

Other times she hunts alone and is pleased for the peaceful solitude the forests bring her heart.

She watches the young Dwarves she met so long ago grown into older adults, Thorin and Dís become harder and more sterner, whereas Frerin seems to somehow remember to keep a smile going despite the seriousness around them.

For some reason he decides that before seeing his family he needs to confide in her that he is thinking of courting someone within the settlement. She doesn’t tell anyone.

It surprises her that sometimes Prince Thorin will actually come to her under the guise of learning some new advice and instead shares some of his secrets with her that she has doubts that he has shared with his siblings, which leads to some strange quiet relationship. 

She doesn’t tell anyone about that either.

She watches as Bofur and Bifur, both of whom she is surprised to learn were miners in the mines of Erebor before the mountain fell to the dragon slowly learn to become toymakers, something so obviously different from their past trades.

She sees Bombur continue his courting of his chosen intended while striving to be a better cook for his family and people. Curious she observes the Dwarven customs of courting in silence.

She watches as Dís sometimes slips away to meet someone and a month later a young musician turned guard makes the decision to ask for permission from Thrain to begin courting the princess. She listened from a distance as he made the proposal to court his One to her father.

She wonders what that term means for Dwarves, but keeps her questions silent despite the knowing looks that are aimed in her direction.

Overtime her eyes watch as despair begins to make its way into the midst of the Dwarves and slowly takes over the souls of both Lord Thráin and King Thrór.

A trapped animal caught by despair is often dangerous and desperate when cornered and she has no idea what King Thrór will do if something pushes him over the edge into the abyss.

Then one day Frerin comes to her wearing a frown on his normally jovial face and tells her that her presence has been requested at a War Council for reasons unknown to him and she understands then that Thrór has reached a point of no return in his despair.

Its at this meeting that she meets a young Dáin and his father, Náin, they along with King Thror and several other Dwarves from the Iron Hills as well as the other seven kingdoms give her appraising looks from untrusting eyes as the King announces they would be attempting to retake the lost Dwarven Kingdom of Khazad-dúm - known as Moria in Westron - and Thráin had asked her for any advice and battle experience that she could possibly give.

Her gazes meets the eyes of Prince Thorin and she sees his hidden worry for the survival of his people as the Dwarves around them, shout loudly.

And she wonders how her advice could possibly be used for a kingdom that has been lost for longer than she has been alive.

0

The battle for the lost Dwarven Kingdom is bloody and brutal. Perhaps more so than any other battle she has taken part in for all the centuries she has lived.

Many warriors from the other clans had given their lives in an attempt to take a place that could not be retaken from the enemy. It seemed that two kingdoms of the Dwarves would be staying lost to time.

King Thrór, Fundin as well though she did not know how he fell in the battle, Frerin fell despite her attempts to reach him with the number of orcs between them, and Dáin’s father, Náin were among the dead littering the hill. Bifur was missing and thought to likely be among the dead strewn all over the mountain side. For the sake of Bofur and Bombur, she hopes in her mind that he is somehow alive.

Thráin too was being counted as among missing. 

Her heart weeps for the lost lives and those who are missing.

She looks towards the top of the hill where Thorin stands holding a sword and an oak branch as both Balin and Dwalin stand at his side; she finds himself wondering what kind of king he will become in the passing of time.

Later when the wounded are being gathered, she hears in passing that Bifur has been found alive. Though Bifur will live the rest of his life with an axe blade lodged deep in his head. 

0

Days after the ill fated battle at Moria, Prince Thorin Oakenshield is made to take over the mantle of leadership at the behest of the Council.

Dís does not take the loss of father, brother, and her Grandfather well, but she and Thorin both allow continue her courtship with the young Dwarf to continue as she becomes far more sterner than she had been before the deaths of two more family members. 

Her friendship with the Princess is strained, but something about it slowly evens out to where they are more friendlier towards each other, to the annoyance and amusement of Thorin.

Eventually she and her intended are married.

Thorin continues his practice of confiding in her and sometimes deigns to smoke a bit of pipeweed in her presence when they simply sit in silence.

The summer that Thorin decides they will lead the people out from the hills of Dunland to find a new home elsewhere is when Dís announces that she is pregnant with her first child. There are Dwarves cheering loudly around her and Prince Thorin himself, looks quietly pleased at the announcement.

Then Balin comes to her one morning while she packs what few possessions she has left to her in the world. She glances at him and inclines her head to him slightly, but doesn’t pause in her task.

“Master Balin, what do you need of me this day?”

He has the grace to look conflicted about something and there is part of her that wonders why he is wearing that expression.

“I have been ordered by our Prince and Princess Dís, that I personally see to the task of teaching you our language.”

She stops moving completely, stares at him in silence and a feeling of confusion worms its way through her soul.

“The language of the Dwarves. Your language. Which is a highly guarded secret from all outsiders.”

He has the gall to smile in the face of her confusion.

“Khuzdul, yes.”

“Even from elves.”

“Correct.”

“I’m an Elf.”

Still smiling, he nods slightly watching her looking both amused and a little concerned, but still conflicted as well.

“We are indeed aware that you are an Elf, lass. That has not escaped our notice.”

She then moves to sit on a chair by the edge of her sleep gear and meets his gaze.

“Then why? Would it not be considered an insult among your people for an Elf to have a right to speak in your language?”

He sighs softly at the question.

“To some it would be considered an insult. The remaining Council members are not happy with the decision, though Thorin’s word as Prince is law. But to the remaining Dwarves of Erebor and perhaps to some of our far flung brethren you have proven yourself as a valuable ally. In the past there have been a few instances where allies have been to speak our language. As my brother might say if he were listening to us talk, think of the shocked expressions on the faces of the fools who try to insult you and you give insult in return.”

She tilts her head a little to the side and smirks slightly, showing a bit of a white tooth.

“That would be amusing. I accept the offer to learn.”

He nods, looking amused.

“Then let us begin.”

0

He sits by Bifur’s sickbed each day with a carving knife and a piece of wood in his hands as he waits for his cousin to wake up and sometimes doesn’t pay attention to what his hands are creating.

Some days it is a little dragon, a horse with an unknown rider on its back, or a bird of some kind. Sometimes it ends up being a Dwarf, then every other time he makes something that looks like an elf with her likeness to it.

He doesn’t quite understand why. She is the only elf that he knows and he considers her to be a good friend.

It was brave and kind of her to help his people escape Erebor when the dragon came and took over the mountain, but he doesn’t quite understand why she stayed with them instead of returning to her kin and homeland.

There was something about her that seemed to call to him.

That in itself was an interesting little puzzle.

Later he locks those little figurines away in a small chest that he hides among his belongings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing accents or at least attempting to do so is hard.

It doesn’t take long for Dís’ happily besotted husband to warm up to the idea of traveling the lands of Middle Earth with an Elf as a traveling companion or that there is an Elf who is loyal to his wife and brother-in-law.

The two Royal siblings and their circle of close friends as well as family seemed to look on with amusement in their eyes when they take to playfully insulting each other.

0

She’s tending to the strap on one of her packs when a slightly frowning Dís comes up to her one day during a small break, a bemused Thorin and Balin following her path.

“Give me your hand.”

“Dís?”

“Give me your hand, Liasia.”

She blinks and looks at the two Dwarves watching their interaction, both of whom shrug at her look. Apparently impatient with her confused slowness, Dís, gently takes her by the wrist and presses her hand against the cloth of her shirt on hardened rise of her stomach.

For a moment she feels nothing and then as she stares at where her hand is placed, she feels it. Three rough little kicks against her hand.

A precious new tiny life.

All she can do in that moment is stare at her hand and the clothed stomach with wide eyes before slowly staring upwards at Dís who grins brightly at her in return.

“When?”

The bright now also _pleased_ looking grin widens.

“Two nights ago. Almost passed it off as gut gas until they happened again on the third night.”

She shares a small grin of her own and looks at where her hand is placed, lightly bumps her fingers against it before removing her hand.

“My dearest congratulations, Dís.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

“Care to share what your news is, my sister?”

Thorin speaks up then and she looks up to note the dawning amusement on Balin’s face as Dís turns her grin onto her brother as she takes his hand by the wrist and presses his hand exactly where hers had been on her stomach.

“Here brother. Feel.”

She watches as Thorin frowns gently as he quietly keeps his hand pressed against his sister’s stomach. Then something in his face changes and she sees the moment he knows what his sister holds within her body and looks up from his hand to her grinning face with shining eyes.

“Truly?”

“Truly dear brother.”

She watches as the two siblings embrace while Balin offers his own set of congratulations. That she listens as the entire camp celebrates the news of a new child in Durin’s line as she watches the plains around them.

She senses the moment someone comes up beside her and keeps herself from reacting as she waits for them to decide when they want to speak up. Perhaps it was the one whose keen eyes she had felt watching her back.

“And here I thought you prancy Elves loved a good party.”

She huffs softly before answering.

“Some do. I however have always cared more about duty than finding a good party.”

Her companion laughs softly.

“An Elf that doesn’t like a good party? Now I’ve heard everything.”

She shrugs, still staring out into the darkness before glancing at her conversation companion out of the corner of her eye.

“Is there something I can do for you, Master Dwarf?”

She notes that he seems to be watching her as well.

“Naw. Just wanted to meet the stray She Elf that has been staying with my people. Name’s Nori.”

“Well met, Nori. I am Liasia.”

“Right. That was the name.”

“Indeed.”

0

She’s observing the healing tents and smiles gently when she sees the joy on Bombur’s and Bofur’s faces when Bifur awakens the next day.

0

Four weeks before they reach the Blue Mountains, Dís gives birth to her first child. The grip that Dís uses during the labor nearly breaks her hand in half as a new son in the line of Durin.

The crying babe is quickly cleaned and wrapped tightly in soft cloths before being handed back to his mother.

She watches her friend from where she sits on a box as the healer, Óin, pokes at her hand before declaring it unbroken while Dís gives her new son the name, Fíli.

Thorin’s face has a quiet look of peace that she has never seen before on his face as he holds his newborn nephew. As if sensing her gaze on him and his nephew, he shares a long silent look with Dís, who nods slightly before looking at her.

“Would you like to hold him?”

She blinks at the question.

“Am I allowed too?”

He smiles at the question as he approaches her seat with his nephew yawning in his arms, his sister, her grinning husband, and the other Dwarves in the tent watching their interaction.

“I think his aunt should be allowed to have a chance to hold the boy before he is presented to the rest of our people.”

Startled joy settles in her heart while she blinks her surprise as Thorin gently places the newborn in her arms and smiles as tiny blue eyes blink up at her.

“Mae govannen, Fíli.”

She is later witness to watching as Thorin proclaims that Dís’ children to be his heirs before the Council.

0

“Have you thought of having children of your own?”

A day she and Thorin are standing at the edge of the camp on a high ridge that allows them to have a view of the entire camp. She pays little attention to the look that he is surely giving her as she watches the Dwarves below go about their daily routine.

“Nay. I have claimed my sister sons as my heirs. Even if I found my One now or in the future, I would have no need for children of my own.”

“Have you?”

Hearing the question, she turns her head slightly and blinks slowly at him.

“Have I what?”

“Considered children of your own.”

She snorts softly at the question.

“Ah. No I have not considered children of my own. Before the day that the dragon came, my entire being was dedicated to doing my duty. Besides that time has long passed me by I believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only that for my people, our coming of age begins in our fiftieth year of life which is when we begin to find our mate and begin our courtship - the one that makes our heart begin to its song. Our children are had during that time. I had begun my training officially when I reached my thirtieth year; I had started learning about weapons before my thirtieth and fortieth years.”

“And your heart song as the Elves call it?”

She shrugs.

“Nay, I did not hear mine when I reached my fiftieth year.”

“Have you heard it now?”

She sighs and focuses on a tent, not actually seeing it.

“Even if I did, there is not much I or anyone else for that matter can do for it.”

0

Two weeks after the birth of Fíli, they reach the Blue Mountains and Thorin decrees that these mountains will be the new home of the Dwarves of Erebor for the foreseeable future.

The Dwarven settlement is named Ered Luin.

Two weeks after that she meets Nori’s two brothers, Dori and young Ori. They don’t immediately warm up to her, but they can accept that their brother seems to trust her.

She is given quarters in the same cavern wing as the Royal family, which she puts a few homey little touches to it like leaning her elven sword and bow against a far wall, her daggers on the wooden table in a room near where one would place a bed. Her two packs closest to the door of the main room, though one is empty of the elven battle armor she had once worn.

A day later she commissions two Dwarven made swords and with help from Dwalin, she learns to fight with two swords. Two days after she makes a new bow as well, full well knowing that these new weapons would attract less attention on the road than the ones she left the Greenwood wood.

0

With permission from Thorin, she does some exploration of the lands near Ered Luin and the Blue Mountains. She finds her way to the Shire and the town of Bree, she lingers long enough in either place to buy some clothes, a pipe, and pipeweed in both locations.

She pays very little attention to the stares and whispers.

When she returns a week later, she shares her pipeweed spoils with the Dwarves she calls friends and strangely enough family in the case of Thorin and Dís.

After she returns, she builds a little house near the entrance to the Dwarven populated caverns of the Blue Mountains as something to use when she feels the need to escape the shadows inside the mountain and go looking for the sun and forests.

She also becomes a witness to the wedding of Bombur and his intended under the eyes of Thorin and Dís, noting from her vantage point the contented expression on Bofur’s face that seemed to hold a hint of longing in it. That was... fairly interesting.

0

Five years after the birth of Fíli and the settling of Ered Luin, Dís and her husband are blessed with the birth of their second son. 

A son who they name as Kíli.

She feels the same startled joy in her heart as she stares at the brown eyed bundle in her arms while Thorin picks up a whining Fíli, so that he can get a better view of his new sibling.

Later when she is alone in an empty tunnel, she leans against one of the tunnel and takes the moment to look at her hands - hands that have held Dwarflings in a way that no Elf ever would, and places one hand on her chest above her heart with a soft sigh. 

This is how a concerned Thorin finds her an hour or two later. She acknowledges him with a slight bow of her head as he stands in the middle of tunnel, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“My Lord. Do you need me?”

He shakes his head slightly, watching her.

“Nay. Two of our Guards reported that they had seen you come this way and had yet to return to the main tunnels. Are you well?”

She nods slightly.

“Yes, I was only lost in my thoughts and did not pay attention to the bells.”

“I am willing to listen if you wish share your thoughts.”

She breathes out a soft sigh and stares at her left hand.

“In a way I suppose I should be thanking you.”

She hears the confused notes in his voice as she looks at her own hand.

“Thank me? What for?”

“Despite the long divide between our two races, you have allowed to hold your sister’s sons and named me an Aunt to them. An honor no Elf aside me will hold. You have continued to allow me to have a home amongst your people, when others would like the stray She Elf to leave for lands unknown despite the Oath I took. You..”

She swallows roughly.

“... You gave an old Elf happiness when none would even think to. Something I had not known to look for. It is something that King Thranduil would not think to do. You have my sincerest thanks for that, my friend.”

For a few moments, there is nothing but her words and silence between them before Thorin clears his throat to speak.

“You need not thank me for any of it. You have become very dear to my sister and I, perhaps even to the boys in time. In a way that I had not thought possible for an Elf. I wonder though if you answer a question of mine.”  
She meets his gaze willingly and tilts her head slightly.

“Ask.”

“What happened that day when we first met at Erebor’s ruined gate? Between you and Thranduil?”

She swallows, her eyes burning as she remembers that day vividly. Of black smoke staining the sky, the smell of burnt ground and plants, the horrified screaming from both Dwarf and Man that somehow survived the attack.

“Thranduil gave the order to retreat not long after we had come to give aid. I however could not follow that order not when I had seen what happened, heard your call for aid, and smelled the fire scorched land. Thranduil noticed my hesitation to follow and we had words. I either go back with my people and hate that choice or -”

She sees the moment when understanding shines in his eyes and finds that she doesn’t want him of all people to pity her for it.

“Or what?”

“Or leave and accept banishment from the Greenwood for all time. I accepted banishment and yet gained something far more precious in the process.”

She reaches out and grasps his right shoulder lightly, smiling when his right hand gently takes hold of her smaller elbow. His expression holds no sense of pity, only kindness and pleasure that makes the lines on his face look less sharp and hard.

“We are pleased to have gained you in all of this.”

He glances at the tunnel around them before tugging gently at her arm.

“Come. Let us not linger down and return to the upper levels.”

0

Four months after Fíli turns five, his father suddenly vanishes one day - or night no one is ever sure - and no one in the mountain seems able to find him. 

Not even her.

Two rooms away she has the job of keeping two little Dwarfling Princes entertained and distracted as she listens to Dís’ shouting and crying while Thorin and Balin try to calm her.

0

“How is he?”

Bofur glances up at her with a please smile as he sets aside his carving of a bird and nods at the side of the room where Bombur and his new wife seem to be helping Bifur with some kind of activity.

“Improvin’ every day. An’ each day we count ourselves as lucky that he is still with us. His understanding of our language is still there, though he seems to have problems with tryin’ to speak anythin’ else. Some days he is happy as you please an’ others he is angrily brooding about somethin’.”

She nods with a slight smile.

“I am glad to hear that there is some amount of improvement in him regardless.”

He nods, glancing at the carving in his hand before looking over to the other Dwarves and she hears the frown in his voice that he’s working to keep off of his face.

“Yeah we are happy about that too.”

0

As the boys grow and Kíli learns to walk without landing on his bottom, she learns what little terrors Dwarflings can be. Especially them and when they manage to get other Dwarflings in on their games or any pranks. 

Right little terrors they are.

Rigid Elflings, who sometimes break the moldings to play pranks are nothing in comparison to the heirs of Durin.

0

She wasn’t surprised that they had followed her to the stables. They were fairly good at sneaking; but not so good at it yet that she, Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin were able to find them when they attempted to escape lessons.

“Where are you going, irak’amad?”

“Kíli -”

She looks up from attaching the last bits of her gear onto her horse and over at the two young Dwarfs. She smiles lightly.

“Out to do some field scouting. Your uncle and I agreed that it need to be done. I see you two managed to escape lessons again.”

She watches as they share a look and then aim a magnificent pout at her.

“We heard you were leaving. We want to go with you.”

She shakes her head slightly at the demand, spotting Dwalin and Glóin watching them at the entrance to Ered Luin.

“You can’t. Not yet. Neither of you are of age where your Uncle Thorin would be comfortable with either of you running about the lands. You have lessons, now go before you get into trouble.”

“Will we see you again?”

“Yes you will. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Kíli pouts as his older brother stares at her before suddenly hugging her waist and she puts her hands on his shoulders gently.

“Promise?”

At that she kneels down to his level and puts a hand on his cheek.

“I promise to come back to both of you, Fíli. Have you ever known me to break my word?”

“No.”

“There is nothing in this world that will keep me from making good on my promise to you. Now be good lads and go back to your lessons.”

With that said, she turns them both around and gives them a gentle push towards the mountain entrance before getting on her horse and nods to the watching Dwarves before riding away.

She made good on her promise and returned whenever she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sindarin** used:
> 
> Mae govannen - "well met"
> 
>  
> 
>  **Khuzdul** used:
> 
> Irak'amad -> aunt


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish:
> 
> Suilad ~> Greetings!
> 
> Mae govannen ~> Well met
> 
> Mellon nî ~> My friend
> 
> "Glassen, gwador." ~> "You're welcome, my sworn brother."
> 
> Khuzdul:
> 
> irak'amad ~> aunt
> 
> nidoyel ~> boy of all boys

_“I cannot guarantee his safety on this quest..”_

_“You asked me to find a sixteenth member. I have chosen Master Baggins…”_

_“I won’t be responsible for his fate..”_

_“Agreed..”_

0

_He’d had sat on his chair and held onto the cup that one of the Dwarves - Dori, he had be called - with shaking hands and listened quietly to the conversations that he could hear from the Dwarves who’d been speaking in the common tongue._

_The one between the two young brash Dwarves and Thorin Oakenshield had caught his interest._

_“Uncle, we have a question.”_

_There’s a quiet chuckle or two before a deeper voice answers._

_“Go on then. Ask.”_

_“Will irak’amad, be meeting us here tonight?”_

_“Nay. She sent word to me that she has been waylaid elsewhere. We will be meeting her on the road to and from Bree. Now get some rest you two.”_

_There hadn’t been much time to ponder that particular conversation as Gandalf walked up and they’d started having a conversation of their own._

He comes back to himself, looking around at the group as they rest in the shade of three trees a ways from the road and out of sight from less than savory folk who might be watching the road for travelers. 

A glance around tells him that some Dwarves are resting in groups of three or two while their leader and Gandalf are nearby having a quiet discussion about something or other. Bofur notices his looking around and watches him while smoking his pipe.

“Um.. excuse me, but is there a reason we’re stopped here? Are we waiting for someone?”

His question draws the attention of the entire Company, some of them eying him before returning their attention to cleaning their weapons or dozing and pouting in the case of Kíli while his brother snickered at him. 

All the while their leader eyed him with quiet disdain.

“Hoping to sneak back to your home and your little handkerchiefs, Halfling? Not to worry we will be leaving soon enough.”

He shakes his head.

“N-No not at all. I’m just simply wondering we were stopped here instead of continuing on.”

He watches as the Dwarf stares back at him and opens his mouth to speak, but Kíli cuts in over him.

“We are waiting for irak’amad to find and meet up with us. Then we can go.”

He watches as their leader nods slightly before giving the younger Dwarf a look and then returning to have his discussion with Gandalf. He looks at Bofur and the two young Princes.

“And who is that exactly?”

Bofur eases his pipe out of his mouth slightly and grins brightly, the two younger Princes mimicking his grin.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll see soon enough, laddie.”

Blinking skeptically he could shrug in response as he leaned back against his pack and was considering pulling out his own pipe for a smoke or two, when his ears picked up the sounds of galloping hooves approaching along the road. He sat up straight and watched as the Company tensed up around him and took their weapons from their sheathes.

He stares at the road in concern and soon enough a hooded rider reveals their presence on the ride. He notes the nervousness of the horse as it whinnies and paces nervously while the rider looks around then back down the road behind and notes that there’s a wrap around the lower half of their face. 

The horse seems to calm as the rider pats it’s neck soothingly and whinnies softly then startles slightly when one of the ponies whinnies in response and the rider’s head whips towards them.

Bemused and startled, he watches with tense Dwarves around him as the rider urges their horse towards. The rider soon stops their horse in front of Gandalf and Thorin, the rider’s hard eyes seeming to sweep over them slowly.

“Suilad Mithrandir!”

“Mae govannen, mellon nî.”

The hard eyes of rider once again sweep over the group and stop upon him for one long uncomfortable moment before they turn back to Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield.

An elf? 

This was the person that the Company was waiting for? He had noted in some conversations that he had overheard in the past that as a rule Dwarves generally disliked Elves and that Elves seemed to hold the same sentiment for Dwarves in turn.

So why?

Questions churn in his mind as he listens distantly to Gandalf and the Elf speak to each other in the Elvish language.

“Indeed I am. Though I think it would be wise to speak plainly as you are among friends after all.”

He notes the look of growing amusement on his old friend’s face as everyone watches them with interest and the elf’s ancient eyes turn to soft amusement as they fall upon their leader of the Dwarven Company. 

“Thorin Oakenshield.”

The less shocked part of his brain notes that the rider’s right hand is reaching towards the wrap on their face and notes the softening frown on the Dwarf’s face seems to be turning into something that he can’t yet identify as the Elf nods slightly at him.

“It is good see you again, my friend.”

The wrap is pulled down to reveal a knowing grin on the She Elf’s face and she glances around the group.

“Irak’amad!”

“Auntie!”

“Kíli! Fíli!”

The young Dwarves bolt over to her as Bofur and Balin move sedately after them and the Elf dismounts from her horse to be nearly bowled over by two excited young Dwarrow.

He looks around and notes the relaxed postures with weapons back in their proper sheathes.

He watches the pretty little picture in front of him; of Thorin gently clasping the shoulder of the female Elf as she laughingly embraces his two nephews while Bofur and Balin look on smiling. The other Company members leave them to their greetings before Dwalin clears his throat to get their attention.

“Thorin, now that we have everyone I think it is best that we move on.”

He watches as the Regal Dwarf nods once, then begins giving the order before squeezing the Elf woman’s shoulder.

“Agreed. Everyone get back on your ponies.”

He hears her snort inelegantly at the order as she pushes Thorin’s nephews away and accepts a hand up from Bofur. She puts a hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder and smiles at him, he finds that he wonders if there’s something more going on that he can see.

“Thank you. It is good to see you again, Bofur.”

There’s a pleased little smile on the Dwarf’s face before they separate and go to their respective mounts.

“It’s good to see you too, lassie.”

At Balin’s not so gentle nudging, he pulls himself together long enough to reattach his pack on Myrtle and gets back onto the saddle with some help from Nori. The group goes over the road and back onto a woodland path and he tries to ignore the feeling of eyes staring into his back as Thorin’s nephews chatter excitedly to their new companion behind him.

He does wonder why they even need him when there is Elf in the Company.

0

She does her best to not stare at the tiny creature on the pony ahead of her as she listens to Fíli and Kíli’s chatter while the two young Dwarrow had their mounts walking on either side of her.

She eyes them both as they attempt innocent grins that she is not fooled by in the least.

“Should I even ask what you two have gotten up to before now?”

“Well…”

“You see…”

The halfling’s voice cuts in over theirs as he slightly turns around in his saddle to look at them and she can hear the rest of the Company quieting to hear the conversation.

“Burst right into my home they did like they had been invited to a great party. Raided my pantry like ravenous heathens the lot of them. Nearly destroyed my possessions and did in my plumbing. Gandalf had not mentioned that Dwarves would be involved.”

She raises a thin eyebrow listening in quiet amusement as the Dwarrow around her, sputtered and attempted to make excuses as she holds back a smile.

“Though I could not attend the gathering, it was my understanding when I heard the invitation that there would be dinner provided, Master Halfling. Dwarves, especially these ones, are a respectable folk at the best of times. As I was not present, I can only guess that they had to take the matter into their own hands because the situation demanded it. As for Mithrandir… one should always expect the unexpected when Wizards are involved.”

The halfling in turn, rolls his eyes at her words as he mutters something soft under his breath that she doesn’t quite manage to catch.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t call me ‘Halfling’. I am a Hobbit and prefer that you call me that. And my name is Bilbo Baggins.”

Her other eyebrow joins the one already ascending into her hairline at the miffed tone in the Hob- Master Baggin’s voice as the Dwarves nearest them snicker. She allows for a small smirk to appear on her face.

“As you say, Master Baggins. Though you will have to tell me what it is that made Mithrandir decide that you were suited to join the Company for this journey…”

Its then that she notices the quiet of the forest around them and pauses in her words, trying to listen for the sounds of the forest that were now so quiet.

It was rather unsettling that she had only just noticed the silence gathering around them. A look at Nori, told her that the Dwarf thief had noticed it as well and nods his head slightly.

“Aunt?”

“Fili, take your brother and ride up to your uncle. Tell him and Mithrandir to stop, but not to relax their guard.”

They try to protest the order before Fíli takes note of the look on her face and urges his protesting brother into moving towards their uncle as Nori and his mount come up next to her as Dwarves shift around them.

She notes the calm look on his face despite the tension in his shoulders.

“How long did it take you to notice?”

He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives her a cheeky look that makes her roll her eyes skyward.

“About a minute or two before you did. What do you think?”

She shrugs and makes note of the look that Thorin is aiming at them.

“I do not know, but we should find out. I did not survive this long by being cautious.”

She dismounts from her horse, handing the reins to a startled Hobbit and motions for Nori to give his to Glóin, before moving swiftly towards the front of line with Nori at her heels. 

Thorin frowns as he watches their pace.

“What is it? Nori? Liasia?”

She shakes her head slightly.

“Stay with the Company and keep them here. Nori and I will be back.”

The frown deepens as he stares at her before nodding once and turns his attention to their nephews, as Mithrandir stares into the distance. 

Silently they take their leave of the group and make to move quickly along the path, she motions for Nori to disappear into the bushes before her moving to follow him. 

“The ground around here has been disturbed recently.”

“And by foot, our group is on horseback for the most part.”

Soon enough they come upon a glen where a group of Men are camped and she curses softly as the two of them take cover in some bushes.

“I should have known.”

“What is it?”

“These men are bandits. They’ve been following me since I left the borders of Gondor. Thought I had successfully lost them in the mountains near Dunland. Though it appears there are less of them now.”

He blinks and gives her a sidelong incredulous look.

“What did you do to attract these idiots?”

She shrugs slightly.

“How many lone elves do you know personally that wander these lands? Men are a strange folk, you know that as well as I do.”

“Right. So what should we do?”

She purses her lips as she studies the restless group in front of them.

“For now I would say avoid them and trouble as best we can. We will need to tell Thorin that the Company will need to move quietly if we want to get past the bandits here. And you may not like this, but there is a bear somewhere nearby. Close, but not to close.”

“You’re right. I don’ like that at all. Lets get out of here.”

“Go, Nori. I will follow.”

She gives a quick nod and motions Nori to go ahead of her, he gives her a long look before moving quietly into the bushes around them. She makes to follow as something - likely a branch - suddenly cracks in the silence attracting the attention of the Men as she hears heaving breathing to her left.

Eru above, the bear had been closer than she thought and then she’s up running as pain makes itself known in the form of an arrow in her upper right thigh. Still she forces herself to run as the bear roars charging after her at scent of blood with the Men stupidly following them both.

“Get the elf!”

“Boss, there’s a bear though too!”

“Don’t care. I want that Elf!”

Swiftly she runs back the way she and Nori had come, with bear and Man on her trail. After what seems like hours, she trips onto the main road and whirls around, drawing one of her swords in defense as the bear comes roaring upon her.

Steadying herself, she breathes deeply before running towards the bear and leaps onto its back, grabbing onto thick brown fur to steady herself as the bear roars its offense. The Men hold back once they come onto the scene, circling around trying to figure out how to their prize as she and the bear continue their struggle.

Their plot however is slaughtered before it can began as the Company joins the fray and she stabs the bear in the back of its neck. It roars one final time before collapsing to the ground with her on its back. For a moment all she can do is breathe while the sounds of fighting die around her as she stares down at the brown fur and pulls her sword out of the wound, using the fur to wipe off the blood, before looking up as a hand settles on her shoulder and meets Bofur’s concerned gaze.

Óin nudges him aside to get a look at the arrow wound, prodding it as the others look on and tears open a hole in leg of her trousers around the injury site.

“What happened, lassie?”

“I’m a fool of an Elf is what happened. Turns out the bear was closer than I had thought.”

“And the Men?”

She looks at Thorin as the Dwarf calmly stares her down in concern.

“Bandits, I ran afoul of near the borders of Gondor. Managed to lose them in the mountains near Dunland or so I thought.”

She gestures at the dead Men around them.

“This is actually less of that group of Men that had been coming after me.”

She watches as Thorin opens his mouth, only to be cut off as Óin breaks into the conversation and she notes the placement of his hand around the arrow.

“This’ll hurt, lassie.”

She nods shortly as Bofur tenses beside her and his hand tightens around her shoulder.

“Just do it, Óin. It will not take long for this to heal.”

“Right.”

He tugs once and she huffs out a slow breath as she blinks, then watches as he stitches the wound shut before wrapping it. When it is tight and secure and Óin has pulled back, she uses Bofur as leverage to stand up and tests whether or not the leg can handle weight despite the protests of everyone, Mithrandir and Master Baggins excluded.

She gives them all her best gimlet stare.

“If it is all the same to you lot, I would like to get back on my horse and leave. I would rather not stay the night in this place. I have had worse injuries that this little poke in the past and my leg will heal from this.”

“Yes, I suppose you have my dear.”

She turns her stare to the Wizard of their Company and he smiles blithely as he offers his arm to her and allows him to help her over to her horse as the Dwarves debate about what to do with the body of the bear, the fate of its meat, and the dead Men.

0 

She ignores the stares that she can feel being aimed at her back as they ride along the path and turns her attention to locating a suitable place to camp in for the night. Eventually as night falls they come to a glen well hidden by a wall of trees, rocks, and bushes and there was a cave in the rock face.

She glances at Gandalf and Thorin, tilting her head towards it with a question in her eyes. After seemingly searching her gaze, their leader nods slightly before turning to the rest of the Company.

“We make camp here tonight.”

Movement follows as everyone dismounts and sets up camp, Dwalin takes Ori to gather firewood with raised eyebrows from his two brothers. She does her best to help despite the darkening glare from their resident healer which she ignores as she sets her pack and bow down on the ground, before allowing Fíli to direct her horse over to where they were keeping the mounts and lowers herself to the ground.

She ignores their Hobbit companion as he crouches nearby while the Dwarves settle around them though in the case of Fíli and Kíli on her left and Bofur on her right with his brothers settled nearby on his right as Óin examines the wound site on her right leg before making a pleased sound and moving to sit next to his brother. 

Thorin settled at the mouth of the cave with Balin and Dori at his side smoking from their pipes as silence settles in the camp.

She sees the look that the Hobbit has on his face and sighs softly.

“Is there something you wish to know, Master Baggins?”

He startles slightly at the quiet attention she gives him and meets her gaze head on, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the stillness of the Dwarves around them.

“I, um… I was simply wondering what business an Elf would have to travel with a group of Dwarves.”

She spies several of the Company opening their mouths to speak including her nephews and Bofur who takes her hand to gently squeeze it in silent fuming support, for what purpose yet she knows not and raises a hand motioning for them to keep their silence.

They do so unhappily and she turns her full attention back to the Hobbit.

“Do you object to the idea of traveling with an Elf? Or the idea of Dwarves traveling willingly with an Elf at their side?”

He shakes his head vigorously, though his eyes seem to be locked in some sort of staring contest with her knowing ancient steel like eyes.

“No. No objections, my Lady. Its just…”

The Dwarves seem to snort as one as the camp listens to the conversation and she holds back a smile at the sound.

“Its just what little Hobbit?”

He stares at her as his mouth opens and shuts silently, before shaking his head.

“Its just that everyone knows there is no lost love between the Elves and the Dwarves. That your two races hold a strong dislike for each other. So one wonders why an Elf would choose to keep company among Dwarves…”

She sighs and glances around the camp, before refocusing her hard stare on Bilbo.

“While that may be true, Master Baggins, you should know that no two Dwarrow are ever the same in their opinions. The same could be said for Elves; as for me I do not share that opinion. I choose to travel with these particular Dwarrow because they are family and friends. Dearest companions and treasured in my heart above everything else that this world could possibly think to offer. Could you say the same, Master Baggins?”

For a few minutes he can only stare at her in silence, his mouth agape before shaking his head and she nods.

“You are young, Master Baggins, and know not the full ways of the world outside your homeland. Do not let your mind be burdened by the troublesome opinions of other folk. Nor should you believe such things. As for why my reason to travel with them..”

Here she raises her head up and smiles softly for all to see.

“I trust each of these Dwarrow with my life, I would like to believe that each of them trust after all this time, and I would see them regain their home at the end of this journey. Can you say the same, Master Baggins?”

He only shrugs as a thoughtful look comes up his face while staring at the fire and she gently pats Fíli’s cheek with her left hand as he rests his head on her shoulder. 

0

The next day she gently pulls Thorin away from the others as they eat and slowly start to pack up camp. He looks up at her, his brow knotted in confusion.

“Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head, a slight smile appearing on her face.

“No not at all.”

“Then why have you pulled me aside?”

“A thought entered my mind this morning as I was eating. And it was about Fíli.”

A small amount of suspicion joins the confusion sitting on his brow.

“What about him? Is he well?”

She huffs a small laugh and barely manages to keep a grin from appearing.

“Our nephew is well, Thorin, do not worry. My thought was simply this; make the day a test of his leadership skills. He will take the throne after you yes? Then have him ride in front with you this day, but let him make the decisions right or wrong.”

Slowly he warms to the idea as she watches and looks to where their nephews stand together laughing as they push at each other before nodding curtly.

“Aye. This is a good idea and I thank you for it.”

She smiles and takes his shoulder into her hand, squeezing it gently.

“Glassen, gwador.”

She fails to keep back a snicker at his pinched expression.

“What did you just say?”

“Loosely translated what I said was, ‘You’re welcome, my sworn brother’.”

His expression changes rapidly to something so widely open that she doesn’t find it easy read into and she leaves him to his own thoughts as she goes to gather her pack and her horse. 

She moves also to inform Fíli that his Uncle wished to see him alone and gently directs a pouting Kíli to his pony.

0

“Uncle?”

He doesn’t hear the approach of his oldest nephew, so lost in his thoughts as he was. And making his own plans for how to approach the one that his sworn Elf sister had laid out to him.

It would be hard not to take back the mantle of leadership if his oldest nephew so much as hesitated in making decisions on this day.

A hand on his shoulder brings him out of his thoughts and looking into his nephew’s concerned blue eyes. Over his shoulder, he can see her giving them both a significant look from where she sits on her horse.

“Uncle? Aunt Liasia said that you wanted to see me?”

“Ah yes. Your Aunt and I have spoken this morning. She pointed out that as my heir and the Crown Prince, you will take the throne after myself. So the plan for today is thus; you will lead at the front with me, but for good or ill you will be the one making the decisions on this day. Your Aunt and I will help if we’re needed.”

For a moment the boy is silent and shocked at the words; part of him wonders if his nephew is truly as ready as their Elven companion thinks him to be. 

Part of him smiles from a distance as a look of fierce determination settles on the boy’s face.

“Thank you, Uncle. I won’t fail you or irak’amad.”

He pats his shoulder gently.

“I have no doubt that you will do well today, nidoyel.”

0

He watches from behind her on his own mount beside his cousin on his left side as she says something to a laughing Kíli and wishes just for a moment that he was in the young Dwarf’s place. Probably making her laugh at something he would say.

Not that he ever knows what he could say to a beautiful creature such as she.

She with her musical birdlike laugh.

She laughs again at something the boy says and turns her head slightly, grinning. Their eyes meet and her gaze seems to become softer as her grin widens just a bit more. The light of the sun catches on her hair and seems to make it look brighter to his eyes.

He feels his mouth smiling in return as his cousin snorts softly beside him, his heart beats quickly in that moment, and his hand that had held hers so briefly tingles.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author attempts to explain with a bit of personal headcanons regarding Elves and finding their one lifelong mate.
> 
> Sindarin/Elvish:
> 
> "Melin ross." ~> I love rain  
> Hûn Pen ~> Heart One  
> Hûn Laer ~> Heart Song

As the sun slowly rises to the highest point in the sky, Fíli, makes the decision to stop for lunch under the shade of some trees that sit not too far a small brook which she notes that their Hobbit seems to watch with some trepidation before making himself look away to focus on something.

She looks around as she sits on a gnarled tree stump, taking note of where each of the Company is at. Fíli is speaking quietly with Thorin and Balin, Dwalin stands near them simply watching in silence, Kíli has taken to making a general nuisance of himself to Glóin, Dori, and Ori as Nori looks on with an amused glint in his dark eyes. Bofur is talking in low tones with Bifur as Bombur munches away on something.

Gandalf appears to have taken Master Baggins aside and the two are speaking in hushed tones that are too quiet for her to hear.

And Óin… Óin is stomping towards her with a serious look on his face.

“Óin?”

The healer stops in front of her with an expectant look now settling on his face.

“If you know what’s good for you, lassie, then you will be a good little Elf and let me have a look at that arrow wound of yours.”

She sighs softly and nods.

“Of course, Óin. Have a look if you wish.”

He raises an eyebrow at the calmness of her attitude towards him touching her and checking on the little wound in her leg. Shaking his head slightly, he bends down on one knee and starts undo the bandage binding around the wound and stares at the unblemished skin before looking up at her, drawing the some of attention of the others.

“By Durin’s beard, lass, this is…”

She gives a slight smile.

“Did I not say it would heal quickly?”

He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Hearing the words is one thing. But seeing it first hand now that is another thing entirely…”

She nods slightly in understanding.

“Indeed.”

0

They stop for the night amongst the trees and after seeing to the needs of her mount, she leans against a tree stump and pulls out her pipe, filling it with some Southlinch Leaf before lighting it. 

Of course she doesn’t count on their Hobbit being nearby when she does. 

Nor does she count on being amused by the slightly outraged tone of his voice.

“Why are you smoking that?”

She tilts her head slightly, eying the Hobbit as the movements of their companions continues around them though she does spot Thorin, their nephews, Balin, and Bofur watching them both. Dwalin is looking elsewhere though she can tell by the slight tilt of his head that he is listening to them.

“Is there something wrong, Master Baggins? I picked this up at Bree the last time I went through there.”

The innocent question seems to send the tiny creature into a tirade over the different pipeweed that the Shire grew and why they were so much better than the leaf that the Bree folk tried to pawn off on others.

She raises an eyebrow at the irritated nose sniff that he does and he frowns at her.

“I did not know that Elves smoked like the rest of the races do. If anything you should smoke Old Toby or the Longbottom Leaf.”

She shrugs at him as the Company settles into comfortable positions around them.

“Perhaps my people don’t in the company of others. I know not for certain if the Elves in the Year of the Trees did. Or it could simply be something that I picked up in my time among the Dwarves.”

“Yes well. Regardless of who you keep company with or what your people do, you should still smoke a better leaf than that one.”

She stares at him.

“Is that an order or a statement, Master Baggins?”

“Simply a statement from a being that knows better.”

She shrugs and continues to smoke her pipe, her eyes moving around the camp to stop on a glowering Thorin and my what a majestic glower it was. She raises an eyebrow up in a question and stifles a sigh when he shakes his head.

Her sworn brother he may be and his nephews hers as well, there were more often than not a few days where she felt like they were back in those first dark days after Erebor fell and her banishment from the Greenwood when they barely know each other and were barely considered allies. 

Yet now they have been friends now for more than a decade and sometimes she still can’t decipher the somewhat darker moods of her friend and leader.

And so part of her wonders what it is that has him in such a mood now.

“Would you be opposed to another question, Mistress Elf?”

She blinks once before turning her eyes to Biblo and sets her pipe down on her lap, well aware of the eyes now on them both.

“In a mood to ask questions this night are you, Master Baggins? You may ask and I might answer.”

He meets her gaze and holds it, ignoring the watchful eyes of the Wizard and the rest of their Company.

“I’m just wondering why a hobbit like myself is needed when Elves are known to be lighter on their feet than any other being in existence while moving quickly and silently.”

“I’m not hearing the question.”

The look he gives her is one of frustrated annoyance that she hears the Dwarves make quiet amused sounds at.

“I’m getting to it! The question is this why you are not the one going into the mountain to steal something and see if the dragons lives or not.”

“Ah... I see.”

For a few moments, the only sound in the camp comes from the fire as it crackles merrily in the night before she answers the question, her voice soft and eyes distant.

“I can only imagine what Mithrandir’s true reasonings are picking for you, Master Baggins. He, Thorin, and I discussed it at length before it was agreed that he would look for another member to fill your current slot. For I was there the day Erebor fell to the dragon, I had gone into the mountain to find and rescue any Dwarves trapped by a rampaging dragon, fire, and falling rock…”

She blinks slowly before looking up and motioned towards the two wide eyed nephews, who sat beside Thorin as he stared at the crackling fire.

“Their mother was among a group of Dwarrow that I was able to locate in that mountain and bring to safety. So in answer to your question, Master Baggins, the dragon knows the scent of the Elven kind. Mine in particular. Does that satisfy your question?”

He nods shortly as both Fíli and Kíli seem crawl over to her and embrace from both sides.

“It satisfies a question. Though I find that my brain is churning with more questions.”

She shrugs lightly, careful not to dislodge the two Dwarves holding onto her as though they were afraid she would disappear.

“Ah, I have heard about the legendary curiosity of Hobbits and had wondered if it was an actual truth or a falsehood to dissuade the curious from asking too many questions about your kind. If your questions are reasonable and remain as such, I might answer them.”

With that said, she finally dislodges the young Princes despite their protests from her shoulders and stands up with her weapons now in hand before moving to relieve Dwalin from his watch for the evening.

He looks at the rest of the Company, surprised that they are even looking at him. His stomach twists at some of the expressions aimed at him.

“Did I say something wrong?”

The Dwarves share looks among each other and mutter at each other in their tongue as Balin shakes his head, a serious expression on his normally kind face.

“Talking about the past, particularly the loss of Erebor is not nor will ever be an easy topic for anyone, laddie.”

0

She’s on guard, when the cry of orcs and wargs down in the valley carries up to their camp and from behind her, she hears the startled fear in Master Baggin’s voice as he asks a question and the boys begin to make mischief before Thorin puts them in their place.

He comes to stand near her position, she acknowledges his approach with a slight tilt of her head before turning her attention back to guarding them and Balin begins to recount the Battle of Azanulbizar for the boys and Master Baggins. 

Then Master Baggins asks about the Pale Orc and Thorin snarls an answer, that the creature had slunk back in its hole and died long ago.

For a brief moment there is silence and then she hears it. Turning her head towards the far ledge on her right, she hears it more clearly; the low soft growling of a Warg and the harsh tongue of Black Speech.

In a flash of movement that brings the startled curses of the others, she sends two arrows flying from her bow towards the dark grove of trees and hisses an oath as she hears the arrows hit the flesh of two targets. She sends another one into the dark, hoping to get the other one though she hears it impact against a tree as Thorin and Balin.

“What is it?”

She hisses out a soft curse under her breath and meets their gazes as she sheathes her bow on her back.

“Two Warg riders. I got one of them.”

“And other?”

“Escaped. My arrow hit a tree instead of the other rider.”

She watches as a dark look overtakes the concern on Thorin’s face and watches with Balin as the other Dwarf turns back to the camp and begins snarling out orders for everyone to be on guard for the rest of the night.

And likely for the following days as well.

0

A few days later, they get caught in a rainstorm and Dori can be heard asking Gandalf if he can do something, she pays the conversations about not doing something about the weather and other wizards no mind as she tilts her cloaked head up towards the sky and lets rain fall onto her face.

“Melin ross.”

“Likin’ the rain much?”

She tilts her head slightly as she works to keep a calm expression on her face as she looks towards Bofur, now turned slightly in his seat to watch her as his pony walks in front of her horse.

“Indeed. It is one of my favorite things in this world.”

The expression on his face states clearly that he doesn’t understand why that it would be.

“Why’s that?”

She tries to think of a way to explain it in a way simple enough that would explain how she felt towards the water that fell from the sky without offending her friends.

“I.. When I still lived in the Greenwood and on patrol, I would look for a little open glen and sit in it as I would watch the rain. Or I could walk along a river and just listen as the rain hit it. It has always been soothing for my soul and to my mind. Even now there is something soothing about the rain.”

She can see that he’s turning her words over in his mind and the slow dawning of understanding in his expression says that he seems to understand her meaning. For all that they are of different races, she wants him to understand and for him to allow her to understand him.

0

Of course, no one expects the three bumbling Mountain Trolls.

She hasn’t encountered Trolls since the War of The Last Alliance.

If anything, she finds the incident very troubling; for Trolls haven’t moved that far for an entire Age.

She is however amused by Bilbo Baggin’s quick thinking to distract the Trolls long enough for Gandalf to reach them and turn the bumbling creatures to stone with the light of the sun.

When they find the troll hoard, she decides to remain outside with the others and keep watch as Thorin follows the Wizard into the hoard cave.

0

The encounter with the wizard, Radagast, leaves an unsettled feeling in her stomach that she does not like as she listens to him recount his tale to Mithrandir, of his travel through the Greenwood now named Mirkwood by her people and of what he encountered in the old fortress that Thranduil ordered be abandoned so long ago.

There’s a growl on the hill behind her and she reacts on instinct and fires an arrow that goes deep into the Warg’s head, she turns in time to see another one be taken down by Thorin and Kíli.

She meets Bofur’s gaze as she pulls out her arrow from the head of the dead creature as Gandalf asks questions of Thorin that he gives only denials to and then they’re off running across the plains while the pack chases after the other Wizard.

As they run, she makes sure to stay at the back at the group; to herd the wayward members and ensure that the pack doesn’t catch sight of them and decide that they would make easier prey than the fast moving Wizard that they are already chasing. And attempting to take down even as they fail each time.

One of them eventually finds their group from behind a rocky outcropping and Kíli brings them down with a well placed arrow in the chest of the Warg. She’s on them before the two creatures barely touch the ground and the orc shouts, then gargles as she slashes its throat with one of her daggers.

And they’re off running again as the pack gives chase, before long they’re sliding down a smooth rock incline into a cave path. A dead orcs falls in after them and she ignores the snarled “Elves” that Thorin says after he pulls out an arrow from the corpse.

It doesn’t hurt her to hear her sworn sword brother to say the name of her kind in such a way. Not when she herself carries a resentment towards Thranduil. At least it shouldn’t put a hurt in her heart.

Then they’re off again, Bofur following Dwalin down the cave path and she follows him silently occasionally sending looks to the narrow rocks above, watching for any enemies that might try to strike from above.

Eventually they come upon the city of Rivendell and she lets out a soft surprised breath at the sight of it before moving to follow behind Nori and his brothers. This is the first time in many years that she has foot in another Elf Lord’s land and she’s not sure how she feels about that quite yet.

She certainly doesn’t expect Lord Elrond to invite them to share dinner with him or for her Dwarves to accept.

0

Its peaceful.

The sense of peace is something different to the peace she has felt among the Dwarrow in Ered Luin. She sets her pack down near Bofur’s pack and gives a quiet word that she will be taking a walk through the city before leaving them. 

Thorin glowered, but says nothing as she does.

She nods to the other Elves as she passes them, ignoring their whispers about presence of an Elf among a group of traveling dwarves and finds the gardens. Locating a bench she sits there for a time with eyes closed and listens to the sounds around her before she hears someone nearby.

Opening her eyes, she spots Lord Elrond and another Elf taking a walk through the garden themselves. Instead of saying anything she simply watches them in silence and then raises an eyebrow when Elrond calmly meets her gaze, inclining her head slightly.

Standing up, she bows slightly before returning to the rooms that they had been given and finds that someone has placed a rose on her pack. For a moment, she stares at it in surprise before she kneels down on one knee and picks it up, gently inhaling its scent and smiles. 

Then tucks it into a pocket on her pack, where she might look upon it later.

0

She ignores the grumbling about the food from her Dwarves and tries not to choke on food or drink as Kíli mistakes a male serving Elf for an Elf maiden.

She snorts softly at her nephew even as he pouts at her and Bofur grins at them both, she waves a hand at them as she tries to contain her mirth. 

When Bofur starts the song from the circular pedestal, she fails to keep the grin from her face as he and the Dwarves sing and ignores the looks on the faces of the other Elves as they watch the antics of the Dwarves. Including the appraising look on Elrond’s face. 

Later when the group is back at their rooms, she ignores the absence of Thorin and Bilbo as she smiles around her pipe as the Dwarrow roar with laughter as Bombur breaks the table that he’s sitting on by catching something Bofur tosses at him.

She blinks awake early the next morning when someone touches her shoulder and she blinks at Fíli, who quietly relays Thorin’s orders that they need to get moving before the White Council tries to stop them. Nodding her thanks and getting her pack back together, she moves to awaken Bofur and Bifur before moving to Bombur and Dori then moves to follow Balin and Dwalin.

As they depart the city and make their way up one of the trails that leads out of the Hidden Valley, she hears Thorin tell Master Baggins to keep up with the Company and hears the soft whispering of two mischief making Dwarrows walking along behind her.

0

They keep a steady pace across the plains, everyone watching the land around them for hunting warg packs.

It also brings other troubling thoughts to her mind; the three trolls that they had encountered and were nearly eaten by. Rarely did they leave their territory and go anywhere elsewhere.

To be this far South..

“You look troubled, my Lady.”

She looks to her right and finds the knowing, kind eyes of Balin watching her. Beyond him she can spot a few others of the Company watching them both, including Thorin.

“There are troubling thoughts in my mind, Master Balin.”

“Such as?”

A sigh escapes her as she looks away from him towards the plains around them.

“Our encounter with the Trolls. I have not seen Trolls since the Second Age. Since the War of the Last Alliance against the Dark Lord. It troubles my mind to think that there may well something happening that we cannot see.”

She looks back at him, in time to see the unreadable look that he aims at her before gently patting her arm.

“I will agree that it is rather troubling, lassie. But all I can say is that for now, don’t let it distract you from being focused on what we are currently doing. There will be time to figure out this mystery another time.”

She nods slightly as she forces her mind away from such thoughts.

A while later, she’s disturbed from her thoughts as Bofur brings her something to eat before retreating to sit with his family members and Kíli takes a seat next to her left side while his brother sits between him and Thorin. She can hear Nori and Dwalin moving around a bit behind her on her right side.

After a moment, she pulls out one of her daggers and examines it in silence before she begins cleaning it.

“Lady Liasia?”

“Master Ori?”

She doesn’t look up from her cleaning while she examines and cleans her daggers as she hears the soft notes of uncertainty in the young Dwarf’s voice.

“May I ask a question?”

She tilts her head towards him, noting the quieting conversations of the rest of the Company and stares at the dagger in her hand.

“You may.”

“Well I was wondering about the courting customs of Elves.”

Slowly she puts the dagger into its sheathe and notes the silence as she stares into the fire, glancing at Bilbo before looking to the young Dwarf.

“I’m not hearing the question, young Master. My people don’t exactly hoard many of our secrets. There are as far as I am aware books on the subject of my people.”

She looks again at Bilbo, who nods slightly when he notices her looking at him as Ori makes a soft frustrated noise and the others hearing him make amused sounds in response.

“I have books on Elves back in my home. But it is mostly your people’s poetry and some of the history that your race has willingly shared.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Ori cuts in again.

“I was wondering if the Elves had Ones? Like we Dwarves do.”

She makes a soft surprised sound as she stares at him in surprise and the camp burst into loud discussion. Some of them loudly denying that Elves could have anything similar in that way to them and others - like Bilbo and Bofur - attempting to silence the others as she gapes at a red faced Ori.

“Shazara!”

She blinks at Thorin in surprise as the others mulishly fall silent and the camp waits for her answer to the question while she sighs and purses her lips.

“Cultural differences aside.. I must ask that one of you to explain what a One is for Dwarves.”

Balin nods and starts explaining as she listens with her head tilted forward while staring at the fire before she eventually nods.

“Hûn Pen, the Heart One. We have something similar. For my people, we begin searching for our mate in our fiftieth year of life - it is also the time when we enter our maturity years. For some Elves, it begins with the start of the Hûn Laer, the Heart Song. Whether or not it is present, should an Elf find the one they wish to court, then they do so and the pair will have a set of silver rings made that begins their betrothal.”

She frowns a bit as she stares at the fire.

“The betrothal will then last a year; it is rare for a betrothal to be ended before the year is up and if it is the crafted rings are then destroyed. In some cases where the pairing is not of similar age then it is subject to the approval of their parent figures. Should it last to through the selected year, then they may marry.”

She swallows harshly to clear her throat without looking at the others.

“There is more to it. But I do not believe this is the time or place for the rest of it. Though I will say this; among my people we only need to look into the eyes of another Elf to know that they are already married.”

She meets Thorin’s knowing gaze once and then looks away, down to her now folded hands sitting on her lap.

“This ‘heart song’... what is it exactly?”

She shakes her head at the question frowning slightly.

“The closest description I can think to explain it, it is like a burst of an unending joyous song upon that first meeting and continues long after that meeting. There is no real way I could think to begin and try to explain the Hûn Laer to any outsider. I have no pretty words to give you. It simply _is_. With our immortality, my people will only marry once and love early within their lifetimes. There is however only one exception; King Finwë, the first High King of Noldor, who remarried after the death of his first wife. It is thought among my people that Elves who do not find their mate and marry early, will likely face odd fates.”

The camp is silent as her words are digested and eventually Balin gives her a kind look, that seems almost knowing and sad.

“And what of you, my Lady, is this heart song something you are feeling?”

“It is.”

“When it did start?”

“It began in the days that came after the fall of Erebor. After I chose to help your people flee the mountain.”

“So you could return to your people and look for your mate.”

She lets a sad smile show on her face and shakes her head, her eyes glancing around the camp before once again meeting Thorin’s gaze and then Balin’s.

“Nay Balin, even if I wanted too; I cannot return to them. My heart one is not among the Elves.”

The Dwarf frowns and then understanding dawns in his eyes as the rest of the camp begins to ask muttered questions.

“Why not?”

“If you recall King Thranduil had decided not to help you as the dragon took over Erebor. Only I came to help and stayed with you. I could have ignored the call for help from Thorin and followed him back to the Greenwood, but I would not have been happy with that choice. Instead I chose to help your people while I would accept banishment from my kin and home.”

The mutters burst into noise and loud ruckus as she finds her arms suddenly full of her two royal nephews, she puts her nose against their heads and breathes in slowly as she watches them shout at her. The camp eventually quiets down with a command from Thorin as he stands near them.

She looks to Balin.

“In following you and your people, I have found many a joy that I did not expect and will guard for all time. As for the Hûn Laer, it... is a complicated matter and matters of the heart is not something that I am well versed in. My entire being has only ever been dedicated to doing my duty.”

“How is it complicated?”

She sighs at the expected question and tilts her head towards Bilbo.

“As Master Baggins pointed out when we first met, there is a rather large divide between the races of Dwarves and Elves. You all know this, even I know it. Given that you can not tell me that your people would easily accept such a pairing. Neither would my people so easily accept such a pairing and allow it to exist regardless of the heart song. There is also the fact that I would outlive my chosen partner, in good faith I could not ask them to accept me.”

Ori tilts his head to the side as he writes something down in his book and Dori decides to ask a question.

“Has there ever been a pairing where the partner was not an Elf?”

She considers the question thoughtfully as one pairing eventually comes to the forefront of her mind.

“In all the history of my people, there is only one such pairing. Lady Lúthien, daughter of Thingol, fell in love with a Man named Beren. Their romance is told among great stories of the Elves. If there have been other such pairs.. no Elf has ever spoken of them to my knowledge.”

“What happened to them?”

“Lúthien died when facing the horrors of Morgoth with her chosen partner, though it is said that she was able to plead successfully with Mandos in his Halls for a another chance to live with Beren and was given the gift of Men.”

There’s a silence before both Kíli and Fíli shift away from her enough to look at her even as she doesn’t quite look at either of them as she feels the combined weight of several gazes upon her while she stares at the fire.

“If you knew them and they knew you, would you consider asking them?”

She sighs softly.

“I know them and they know me. I still do not believe that I would ask them.”

She stands up and moves to the edges of the camp, to stand guard. Vaguely she listens to the camp as the others mutter themselves and after a few minutes she hears Thorin come up behind her.

“My people would accept it if I told them too. You have their respect in a way no other Elf ever will. You do not have to be alone.”

She turns her head slightly, not looking at him.

“You have said that you yourself do not have a love for my kind. Would you truly accept such a match if I decided to pursue that path?”

Silence follows her question and she nods as though that would be his answer, ignoring the pain in her heart.

“I thought as much.”

Thorin growls under his breath before stomping away from her and she’s left with her own churning thoughts for the rest of the evening.

0

The next day finds them all back on their feet and he’s walking beside his cousin near the back of the line, trying to keep his eyes on the path in front of him instead watching their Elven companion while attempting to ignore the guesses and wagers that the rest of Company were making on what Dwarf could possibly be her mate.

His cousin nudges him twice and waits till he looks at him.

“What?”

_‘You should talk to the Elf. I have seen how you both look at each other when you think the other doesn’t see.’_

He glances around them, making sure there is a far enough distance between the others that no one will hear him when he hisses back.

“What good would it do, Bifur? You heard her. Its not something she would ever consider.”

_‘The two of you are afraid even I can see that. You should talk to her and she to you. Can’t hurt anyone.’_

“Except us.”

Bifur snorts in response before moving to catch up to the others and he’s not sure that he entirely likes the gleam in his cousin’s eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo attempts to help in his own way, the Elf lady gets angry, and other things.

When the Hobbit - when _Bilbo_ comes to pull her aside that night two days later, she is not quite sure what to expect with him or know immediately what he will want from her. The Hobbit is still something of a mystery to her though she is not overly fond of mysteries left unsolved.

“Lady Liasia.”

“Master Baggins.”

“Come with me please.”

The Dwarves look up from their activities as they set up camp to watch as she follows Bilbo to some unknown destination and ignores the feeling of many eyes staring into her back. She purses her lips as they move further away.

“Where are do we go to, Master Baggins?”

“Somewhere where we can talk in peace without bothersome nosey Dwarves listening.”

After a short while, they come to a cave from where they can still see the camp and see anyone coming towards them. She chooses to stare at the night sky instead of looking to the smaller creature standing with her.

“What is you wish of me then?”

Silence stands between them before the Hobbit decides to speak.

“Did you know that there is a language of flowers among my people? That red rose in your pack has a particular meaning of its own. It means that whoever gave it to you, loves you. And I think you are making a mistake.”

She turns her head to look at him, keeping a blank mask on her face.

“What do you believe I am making a mistake about?”

In her heart, she knows what he means by it though she will make him say it.

“I think you are making a mistake about the heart song by ignoring it and whichever Dwarf is supposed to your chosen mate.”

She tilts her head towards him as annoyance flutters in her heart.

“How exactly am I making a mistake, Master Baggins?”

He sighs gustily with pursed lips as she stares at him.

“You are ignoring something that I would think should not be ignored by both parties. I think you really should -”

She moves quickly into his space and looms over before he can finish his sentence, her face hard as her voice tight with anger.

“What would you know about courting to Elves or Dwarves, little halfling? It is not your business to offer advice about something you know little about, Master Baggins. There is something for more important things at hand happening than matters of the heart. There is nothing to say that Dwarves and Elves are even compatible to each other. The reclaiming of Erebor is more important than the love life of one Elf.”

He sputters in shock until she moves back and turns from him to watch the stars in the night sky.

“Return to camp, Master Baggins, I have had enough of your company and words for one night. Inform the others, I am keeping watch.”

0

The Dwarves all look up as he quietly returns to the camp alone, Kíli frowns as he looks for their Elven companion in the hope that she is behind him and seems disappointed when she isn’t.

“Bilbo? Why do you return alone? What happened?”

“I tried to talk with her and offer advice. It didn’t go very well. She then bade me to return to camp and tell everyone that she would be keeping watch higher up the hill for the night. She was also kind enough to inform me that the possible reclaiming of your lost mountain was more important than her heart.”

Balin sighs softly around his pipe.

“One thing you’ll learn about our resident Elf as we have, laddie, is that Elves are about as stubborn as Dwarves. If not a little more than us. And our Elf is particularly stubborn when she puts her mind to it.”

Glóin nods as his eyes grow slightly distant in memory.

“Aye tis true. My Tánani and I had to convince her to let us name her as irak’amad to my boy, Gimli, like Thorin had done with her and his sister-sons. In the end it all took was some doing by my dear wife to convince her.”

Thorin sighs in memory as he stares into the darkness of the night, ignoring the sounds his nephews were making.

“Eventually she did let you go through with it despite my word to you and your wife that she might not. And that was only when your mate put your son in her arms.”

Bilbo tilts his head with a confused expression on his face, not quite understanding why they would do that.

“Why do that? She’s an Elf and you’re all Dwarves. You should hate her like the other Elves. Yet this one Elf is somehow part of your family. I’m not sure I understand.”

That sends the camp into an uproar of angry words that eventually quiets as Thorin only gives him a harsh thunderous stare while his mouth turns into a frown.

“You are right in that you don’t understand, Master Baggins. I would advise you to have care with your words and not speak about matters you know nothing about. You are correct that Lady Liasia is an Elf and she has proven herself to us. The rest of her kind have not and what we feel about them is complicated.”

Bilbo nods quickly.

A few minutes later, she comes out of the shadows, her eyes dark in the light of the fire.

“Dwalin.”

They all look up at the sound of her quiet voice and the named Dwarf scowls at her.

“What is it?”

“I have come to tell you that one of you should put out the fire.”

“Why? What do you know?”

“I heard a Warg pack a moment ago. I do not believe they are nearby, but I refuse to have a relaxed guard only for them to be closer than thought.”

“Right. Fire out then, lads.”

The fire pit is quietly smothered and she disappears into the shadows of the night again before they can think to call her back.

0

Two days later, they walking through a storm in the Misty Mountains and she is walking behind Balin with Kíli and Fíli following behind her, she can hear Thorin saying that they need to find shelter. She knows not where they would find shelter now. Its mostly silent save for the rumbling thunder and lightening in the sky above them covering the breaths of the group.

The silence is quickly changed into loud noise as rocks fly through the air around them while Stone Giants move into view to fight each other.

It would have been fascinating any other time to watch these giant creatures at any other time, if it didn’t mean that they would be crushed survive their fight. She watches as one falls with the other half of their group - she can just barely see Bofur among them, his clothes darkened enough from the rain that he nearly blends entirely with the rock at his back - on its leg and her shocked heart tightens as they disappear from view into the side of the mountain ahead of them.

She doesn’t see Bilbo’s face as he is behind her and Bofur, who is at her back, when Thorin says that he shouldn’t be there with them.

0

The Dwarves pile into the cave around her, grumbling among themselves as they find places to sleep. Her eyes however are on Thorin as she moves towards him and stands at his side.

“Thorin. We can not stay here.”

He glances at her as he puts down his weapons and pack.

“I know. But we cannot go out in that either. I will not risk the boys or any of the others. Bofur will let us know if anything should move against us.”

She tilts her head and sighs as she claims a spot close to his, knowing that this is one fight she won’t win. Not with the storm and the Stone Giants outside. 

“Very well.”

An hour later her mind stirs into wakefulness as her ears catch the sound of movement and then Bofur asking Bilbo just where he thinks he is going. With hooded unblinking eyes she watches them and catches the slight change of movement in Thorin, she knows that he is watching them too.

“What’s that?”

Bofur’s question has her looking at both of them again and dread sits harshly in her stomach as she notes the blue glow of the Hobbit’s sword. Then the floor falls open underneath them and she aims a glare at Thorin’s back as they fall down into the darkness.

0

In her opinion, Goblins are odd creatures that are best left alone and never encountered again. She had seen their kind in battle and that was enough for that opinion to form.

As the goblins shove them along the path, she has no idea how they will escape from these creatures and instead watches the reactions of the Company in this new situation. Ahead of her in the moving line was Bifur, Thorin, and Dwalin. Bifur had started covering his ears to the sudden burst of music and she wondered what he was hearing as she noted Bofur was looking around them.

A glance behind her, was met with the annoyed scowl of Dori and behind him she could see Ori keeping his eyes on his brother’s back. Others were struggling with their captors though she was not sure who exactly as the lighting of the cavern was just dim enough to keep that knowledge from her.

And then the group came to the cavern that she assumed was meant to be their version of throne room. 

A rather large goblin sat on it and started up a song as their group was brought before him, whom she thought was likely their king as well. Among the goblins as a whole, he is the biggest one that she has ever laid eyes on in all her life. They all narrowly missed being knocked to the ground by his staff before he returns to his throne of wood and what appears to be bone tied together.

He doesn’t even seem at all insulted she notes when Balin calls the song an abomination and the others agree with his sentiment; instead the giant creature seems rather amused. For the moment he still doesn’t seem to notice her among the Dwarves though she can hear much smaller goblins growling at her back.

That is until he orders them searched and Nori’s pack of goodies is overturned to reveal the elven trinkets he made off with from Rivendell. Somehow there is a part of her that is not even surprised about that. If anything she is admittedly amused by it. And then his dark eyes take note of her as dread fills the pit of her stomach when a small smirk appears on his face.

“Not only in league with Elves. But traveling with one as well. Come forward, pretty one. Let me… have a closer look at you.”

Excited sharp little claws roughly push into her back and in front of her others grab at her, intent on pushing her towards the great goblin as her Dwarves freeze then start trying to fight back against the goblins holding them, snarling threats against their person. She struggles, doing her best to pull her arms out of their dirt stained hands and keep out of their leaders grasp for even a little bit longer.

His right hand eventually lands on her left shoulder and squeezes roughly as he pulls her towards him, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulder; numbing her arm as she tries to fight against his grip. She turns her head to the side in an attempt to avoid the putrid rankness of his breath as he jostles her roughly.

“What a little pretty fighter we have here. Tell me what is a group like you doing in these parts? And with an Elf of all things? Is the She-Elf a guide of some kind for you? Or does the Elf mean something else to you lot? Hmm?”

Through the roar of noise in her ears, she can hear Óin make an attempt to distract him despite not having his trumpet whole as a flattened mess of metal and the giant king steps towards them roar, she huffs a quiet breath as he wrenches her shoulder out of place when he knocks her against a pile of nearby bones that she guesses were previous visitors to the goblin stronghold. And she hears Bofur make an attempt to distract the Goblin King as her bones feel like they’re rattling under his grip.

She feels the moment his patience with them wanes when his grip tightens painfully on her wrenched shoulder.

“Shut up!”

In the ensuing silence, she hears Bofur’s mouth shut with a loud click as the Dwarves stand tensely around them. The giant goblin turned his attention to her and shook her enough that she raised her head to look at him defiantly.

“Well little She-Elf, care to share what your Dwarven companions refuse to say?”

She spits at him.

“Nay.”

He grins as though he had expected her to say that, before tossing her back towards the others - Dori pulls her closer to them as a darkly scowling Nori crouches beside her while Bofur hovers behind her - and ordering for the devices mentioned in his song to be brought up.

She looks up then and meets his grinning face.

“We will start with the She-Elf. After her, the youngest.”

Then hell breaks loose as the goblins discover the exact origins of Thorin’s sword and the great cowering king orders his head be chopped off. To that order and their managing to successfully pin Thorin down, intervention comes in the form of a great bright light from Mithrandir and then they’re running for their lives, fighting their way through hordes of goblins.

For all that she has always been more comfortable as a dual weapon wielder, she is forced for the moment to rely on the one weapon training she had learned with her Elven kin and the strength of her companions to get them all through the masses of goblins intent on coming after them.

Just when it seems as though their escape will be aided by a narrow bridge, they are halted on it by the return of the Goblin King. Who stupidly taunts their Wizard.

“What will you do now, little Wizard?”

She watches silently as Mithrandir pokes the creature harshly in its eye with the pointy end of his staff and then attacks the large King with his sword. And then the bridge becomes their ride down into darkness.

Their descent into the darkness is fast as she watches in silence with wide eyes as jagged edges pass by as the alarmed noises from her Dwarves fill her ears. And then they fall to a stop on dark stony ground.

“Well. Nothing worse could top that.”

And then the body of the dead Goblin King lands on them with a crunch of wood breaking. The Dwarves curse around her as she struggles to get herself free and then works to free the others as best she can while ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

“Gandalf!”

At Kíli’s shout, she looks up as she helps Bofur and Thorin get up to see what’s happening further up then immediately wishes that she hadn’t. Her eyes widen at the sight of white dirty bodies coming towards them like a angry flood and then they’re running again into a narrow tunnel. This time into the light of day and she sighs in relief as she feels the sun’s light on her.

She cradles her left arm to her chest after having been forced to sheathe her sword, trying not to jostle it as they come to a stop among the trees and hears something following them as Gandalf begins asking about their missing smallest member of the Company. She hears the argument among the Company and Thorin’s accusations that he has taken his leave of them.

Snorting softly she gains their attention as she faces toward the way they had come from.

“Nay. Something unseen has followed us out of the goblin caves. Though unseen, I can still hear it. However the one followed us is close at hand. Very close.”

Her Dwarves tense and growl under their breath looking around in every direction as she tightens her grip on her left arm, holding it closer to her body.

“She’s right. Here I am.”

Bilbo Baggins appears from around a tree and while the Dwarves try to question him, she shares a concerned look with Mithrandir when the Hobbit slips something small yet shiney into one of his pockets.

“... miss my books. And the nice armchair. Home is the Shire and that is where I truly belong. You don’t on the other hand, don’t have one. So I will do my hardest to help get yours back.”

0

Later she finds that she doesn’t quite have an accurate memory of the events that follow Bilbo reuniting with the Company.

She remembers dark vague shapes with sharp points far below and panicked breaths around her as Dwarves yell when tall leafy things fall into each other one by one.

She remembers the vaguely large white blur that she will later learn was Azog and his mount as one when she places herself between them and their prey in an attempt to protect Thorin, who was crouched on the ground behind her.

There’s a slight impression of being picked up by something with large smooth claws and then nothing else as darkness claims her.

0

“C’mon, lassie. Wake up.”

Someone’s patting her cheek as she slowly comes to, memories comes to her and she sits quickly before folding in on herself with a hissed breath as her apparently sore ribs creak with the movement. There are hands on her right shoulder and back, working to keep her still and push her back down to the rocky surface she had been laying on.

“Auntie!”

“There we go. Easy now, easy does it, lassie.”

She looks up to meet Bofur’s dark eyes and the concerned blue ones of Fíli as they try to keep her still.

“What happened? Where are we?”

Bofur looks at her and then to Fíli as the younger Dwarf meets his gaze.

“Go find Óin and see if he can spare a moment for our Elf here. He was with your Uncle and our burglar hobbit last I saw.”

The younger Dwarf nods once and leaves them alone, before he turns back to her and squeezes her right shoulder gently.

“You and I are gonna have a talk soon, lassie. Very soon.”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“I have no idea what you mean, Bofur.”

Despite the dark look in his eyes, he aims a rather cheerful disarming little grin at her and her heart flutters in response. Almost as if he knows what aiming one of his charming grins will make her heart beat faster in response.

“I rather think you do know, my dear Elf. And we will speak together if I can help it. But to answer your question, we were found by the one hunting us and as it turns out Azog is still very much alive. It was rather noble of you to try and keep the White Orc and his men from getting ahold of our King even if it meant you getting hurt in the process. After you went down and Thorin unconscious, little Bilbo moved in and tried to stop them. Managed to take down an Orc all on his own until the rest of us could get into the fray. You even missed the Giant Eagles bringing us to the Carrock as Gandalf called it, Thorin embracing Biblo and admitting he was wrong about him.”

She blinks at him in surprise as they are joined once more by Fíli, who is followed by Óin, Thorin, and Bilbo. Her attention is briefly drawn to Thorin - whom to her eyes doesn’t seem to be injured as much except for a bandage wrapped around his chest as well as some small cuts on his face. She is surprised when she notes that something about him seems to have changed before she has much time to think about that, Óin grabs her attention.

“Good you’ve wakened. Now you have cracked ribs which have been wrapped and now we can set your left shoulder before we can move on. Lets get you back up and Thorin will set your shoulder for you, lassie.”

She nods once she is sitting up again with Bofur’s hand on her back (which she attempts in vain to ignore) and Thorin puts a gentle hand on her injured shoulder. He meets her gaze with concern in his eyes.

“Ready? Breathe slowly now.”

“Do it.” 

He doesn’t give her time to think of much else as he holds her gaze and then shoves her left shoulder back into place, she holds back a wince as she breathes out in a soft sigh. Then Óin is nudging him aside and putting her arm into a sling; Bofur and Thorin gently help her up into a standing position, her legs shaking slightly as they hover around until she finds her central balance again and from his position nearby a watchful Gandalf nods to himself.

“It would be wise for us to move on and look for shelter elsewhere.”

His statement is met with loud complaints until Thorin sighs as he tells them to quiet down and do as he says. He looks to her and she nods slightly as she takes her weapons from Bofur, their fingers brushing against each other ever so slightly. 

A shiver moves up her spine and she blinks at his knowing expression as she moves past him to carefully follow Gandalf down the rock steps. Its a trip mostly done in silence though she can hear Bilbo and the Dwarves behind her muttering about various things.

She knows full well that there is a pair of eyes staring at her back and wonders what she would see if she were to glance behind herself even once. 

0

They settle that night in a grove hidden behind a rock wall on the Carrock that is high enough to hide their fire pit and there is something like a cave in the wall that gives them a perfect view of the forest path. Though the Dwarves and their Hobbit never had the joy of experiencing Elven tempers face to face or her own particular temper, it makes itself known when she tries to take her dinner bowl from Bofur though he refuses to let her take it from him.

“Bofur, just give it to me.”

“I’ve got it, lassie. Here just -”

The Company stills, pausing in their own eating of mashed up food to watch the little scene before them of an Elf and a Dwarf having an almost… domestic squabble over food of all things.

She glares up at him.

“Do not me treat like an invalid, Bofur. Do not push me. I can manage on my own.”

Thorin slowly places his bowl down into a silent Bilbo’s hand when he notices the equal tightening of their hands on both sides of the bowl and prepares himself to intervene if need be, noting that Balin and Dwalin are prepared to the same.

“I’m not, Liasia. If you would just let me -”

“Bofur, I am w-”

The bowl cracks in half, the food falling onto her legs, and to the great surprise of everyone - except perhaps Gandalf, an angry Elf is looming over the hatted Dwarf. Her eyes dark with barely suppressed anger as she pierces Bofur with a hard stare.

“Now Liasia, there’s no need for that. I -”

She cuts him off by snarling something in her own tongue and roughly pushing her way past him. Past a silent Nori, who had been watching the exchange with shrewd eyes from where he sat next to his shocked brothers.

“Liasia -”

At Bofur’s voice, she whirls back around and to everyone’s shock one of her daggers is sticking into the ground in front of his feet before she disappears angrily into the darkness of the forest.

0

There’s silence in the wake of her departure as Thorin takes his bowl back from Bilbo, and everyone looks at each other with wide eyes before turning their eyes to Bofur who has picked up the dagger at his feet, staring it in shocked silence.

After a bit, he looks up and around at the others.

“I -”

Gently Thorin, speaks after swallowing a bite of food.

“I trust that you are going to go after her, Bofur? And fix whatever slight has fallen into our Elf’s mind?”

Startled, he can only nod before he drops the other half of the broken bowl and takes off into the forest after the angry Elf. The others can only stare in stunned silence before attempting to return to their dinner as a small smirk appears on Thorin’s face.

“Now I believe each of you owe me seven silver pieces each.”

Making a soft annoyed sound, Bilbo covers his face with both hands as the camp erupts into noise and Gandalf smiles to himself a mysterious little smile as he tosses a small pouch towards the lightly smirking Dwarf King.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin:
> 
> Adar -> father  
> Naneth -> mother

It takes him a while to find the wayward Elf, but eventually he tracks her down and finds her sitting in the moonlight on a large upturned rock with her face turned towards the sky. The tilt of her head tells him that she knows he is there.

In his heart, he had thought of her as beautiful and yet under the light of the moon, she looks radiant under its touch.

For a moment or two all he can do is stare at her in dumbfounded silence until he realizes that she has turned her head to watch him in turn. Her eyes he notes, are no longer dark with anger yet instead they are a soft warm green.

“Bofur.”

Before he knows what he’s doing, his body seems to grown a will of its own and has taken a few steps towards her rock and even then he had to consciously stop himself from going straight to her.

“Are you alright?”

She nods once.

“Yes I am well. It is good you came after me I suppose. I should apologize to you, Bofur. You did not deserve my anger. Especially not so when you were only trying to help. I am… not exactly used to needing help. I should not have been cross with you for that.”

He shakes his head and smiles at her.

“I certainly coulda been less pushy in that moment.”

She looks away then towards the water and he starts moving towards her.

“Perhaps so. But let us not dwell on the could have beens yes?”

“Probably a good idea. Wouldn’t do for anyone to dwell on little things like that.”

She looks up with a small smile at him as he joins her on the rock and for a few moments there is only silence coupled with the sounds of soft breathing. He notes a few wet spots on her trouser legs which meant she had managed to clean off the food that had fallen on her earlier.

“How’s your arm?”

He watches her face which doesn’t change in expression as she looks out over the water and then at her left arm still in the sling.

“The injury is healing. I should be able to remove the sling and have full use of the arm by tomorrow. Perhaps even have some use of it this night. The cracked ribs will be healed by morning.”

She looks at him over then up at his face.

“And you, Bofur, were you injured when Azog came after us or in the Goblin caves?”

He shakes his head quickly.

“Save for a small cut or two and some splinters, I wasn’t hurt like you and Thorin were.”

She makes a small sound - one of relief he realizes - and smiles brightly.

“I am relieved to hear that.”

His heart beats quickly at the admission and he swallows quickly, unease and elation both threatening to choke him.

“Are you truly?”

She looks up at him quickly, pinning him in place with a searching gaze for several long moments before she nods.

“Yes truly. I am quite relieved to hear such a thing.”

Before he can stop himself, his left hand takes her right hand and squeezes it gently. She looks down at their joined hands and sighs softly before looking to him.

“On the Carrock you said that we needed to speak before I denied you the attempt. You are correct that we do, but I must ask that you wait a little longer for such a discussion.”

He tilts his head watching her face as his thumb gently caresses the top of her hand.

“Why wait?”

“Despite the peaceful feel of this area, I do not believe this is the time or the place for such a discussion. When it is time for our talk, I will come to you. For now though I think it is best we return to the others.”

In spite of himself, he nods.

“Alright.”

She smiles at him and his heart beats furiously at the sight of it.

0

The others look up as one when they enter the camp together though she remains at the edge of the fire light. As they watch, Bofur, notes the lack of her presence at his side and turns to look at her.

“Liasia?”

“Are you alright, lassie?”

She nods once, not quite looking at the rest of the Company even as she meets Bofur’s gaze briefly before looking away again.

“I am well. Though I should apologize.”

The others shared confused glances between each other, wondering what she could mean as Bofur merely watches her in quiet understanding.

“For briefly losing control of my temper in front of all you over something so small as Bofur’s attempt to help. It was rather unbecoming of me.”

Balin exchanges a look with Thorin before looking at her.

“We accept your apology, Lady Liasia.”

Calmly she nods slightly before she started to move further in the warm light of the fire. Dwalin watches her as she moves towards her pack and Bilbo approaches her with a new bowl of food which she thanks him for with a smile.

“I didn’t know that Elves could get angry like you did.”

The camp holds its breath as she considers her bowl and then takes a bite, chewing it thoughtfully. When she swallows, she speaks.

“We can. I have heard the ever foolish whispers that say my kind are emotionless beings. A falsehood that I have no idea how it came to be. We feel emotions just as strongly as the other races do if not more. Anger, joy, sadness, annoyance, remorse, grief, serenity, awe, surprise, rage.. are all things Elves feel.”

She glances almost shyly at Bofur then back to her food and took another bite.

“Even love deeply when we choose to.”

For a few moments, they let her eat in silence until she finally sets her empty bowl down and pins Thorin with a stare that he immediately straightens under.

“Your sword, Orcrist. May I see it?”

He frowns slightly at the question, but nods anyways as his hand carefully takes a hold of his sheathed weapon. She then turns her attention to Kíli, who swallows at her sudden attention.

“Will you be a good lad and bring over your Uncle’s sword?”

The young Dwarf looks between her and his Uncle, lingering on Thorin longer before nodding when he finds something satisfactory in his Uncle’s expression and moving to retrieve the sword for her. Quietly he brings the sword over to her under the watchful eyes of everyone present and carefully hands it to her, hilt first.

She takes the sheathed sword from him with a nod of thanks before he returned to sitting by his brother and Bilbo as she turns her attention to the sword that she lays gently in her lap. With a sigh she gently removes the sling despite the protests from their resident healer and slowly rotates the hurt shoulder before gently running her fingers along both sides of the blade with the closed eyes.

Bofur sits quietly beside her, watching the movement of her hands along the blade and noting how her fingers never once stray near the sharpened edge of the blade.

Eventually her eyes open again and she looks down at the sword with a small half smile on her face.

“Liasia?”

They watch as she comes back to herself and she blinks slowly, shaking her head slightly.

“Apologies.”

“Are you well?”

She nods at the question, her eyes trained fast on the sword.

“Yes, I am well. Long have I wished to look upon a sword of Gondolin. This sword belonged to an Elf Lord belonging to one of the twelve houses that guarded one of the one of the seven gates of the city. My mother told me stories of this blade when I was but a child. The first wielder of this blade is a kinsman of mine through my mother.”

Thorin tilts his head slightly, curious as to what knowledge she might share of the blade and about the family she has never spoken of, having left them behind when she accepted the banishment from her homeland to help his people.

“What do you know about it?”

She looks up at the question.

“The sword was made in the city of Gondolin with its mate in the First Age. The sword’s hilt is made from a dragon’s tooth; the Sindarin inscription engraved into the blade when translated reads, “tooth of the snake”. This blade was used by Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Fountain in battle at Gondolin against the forces of Morgoth, taking many lives among Dark Lord’s servants until his death against a Balrog called Gothmog and the sword itself was lost to time.”

“You said it was made with another sword?”

She nods towards Gandalf and the sword that rests against his leg.

“Yes, Gandalf uses it now. Glamdring was first wielded by King Turgon. Who they called the Wise in that time, the King of Gondolin before his death in battle when Gondolin was found and the Dark Lord, Morgoth attacked with his forces.”

She falls silent and the camp is silent for a long moment or two before Bilbo decides to speak, his mind wondering about the little sword that Gandalf had given him after the encounter with the Trolls.

“Could you tell anything about mine?”

Everyone watches as she considers the question carefully and she tilts her head to the side.

“I can try, Master Baggins. If you would bring it here?”

Bilbo nods, getting up from his position beside Thorin and turns to get his little sword from behind his pack where it rested against the tree. As he makes his way towards her with the little weapon, she notes several interesting expressions on Thorin’s face before taking the sword from the Hobbit and turning her attention to it.

“Of Elvish make as you can see, possibly made in Doriath or Gondolin. Though I would say Gondolin myself. This is a dagger by the standards of Men and of my people. And a ‘letter-opener’ to Dwarves I have heard. I am... uncertain of who would have been its bearer before you, Master Baggins. I’m sure you have noted its ability to glow when enemies are nearby.”

He nods hesitantly.

“It glows blue.”

“Yes it does do that. Ah.. so there is no inscription on this one, “Maegnas aen estar nin dagnir in yngl im” … that would be fitting for it I think.”

“What does that mean?”

She looks at him and then at Gandalf with a secretive little smile. It broadens when he seems to catch onto what she’s thinking and nods slightly as she turns back to Bilbo, giving him back his little sword.

“Use it, Master Baggins. Learn its name on your own without turning to Gandalf or another Elf for help. When you do, find me and tell me the name you pick for it. Then I will tell you what I said in the tongue of my people.”

Frowning he nods slightly and when she gently hands Thorin’s sword to Bofur, he allows her to use his shoulder for balance as she stands up. Watching as she takes the sword back from Bofur and stares when she pins him with a look.

“Ask one of the others to help you learn the correct way to handle that blade, Master Baggins. I would hate to see you get stuck on it somehow.”

Together they walk over to where Thorin and his nephews are sitting, gently she hands over the sword to Thorin hilt first. When one of his hands touches the hilt, she puts a hand on his and he looks at her a question in his eyes.

Eyes dark, she tilts her head towards the sword, knowing full well that the others are listening.

“For what it is worth, you have my blessing to continue using this blade, Master Oakenshield. Use it well.”

He blinks at her tone, at the implied threat in her words as the Elf turns away and walks back towards her spot for the night until Dwalin opens his mouth.

“Was that supposed to be a threat?”

She glances at Bofur before kneeling down before her pack with a stiff spine and searching for her bedroll while not looking at anyone.

“To anyone outside this company, it would be one. Were it someone else attempting to use that particular Elvish sword or any weapon of the Elves, I would have taken their hand and done everything within my own power to make sure the sword remained lost to time. Dwarves aren’t the only ones who are protective of their treasures and these weapons are part of my Elven heritage, Master Dwalin.”

0

The morning of the next day finds the Company hastily packing up their remaining things as she had heard the hunting call of their pursuers off in the distance behind them. Despite a grumbling not quite awake Hobbit, they are able to move on quickly and she finds herself near the front of the line with Bofur at her side and her nephews in front of them.

Ahead of them are Dwalin and Balin, with Thorin in the lead as he keeps counsel about their path and destination with Gandalf.

“Save for last night, I don’t think I have ever heard you mention family before.”

She nods slightly, keeping her eyes trained on the movements of the forest land around them.

“No, none of you would have. This is the first I have made any mention of them in quite a long time.”

“Why have you not spoken of them before?”

Face made blank, she looks at the Dwarf that has claim to her heart though her ears are still trained on the forest.

“What good would that have done me, Bofur? No one asked either. Had I made any mention that I left anyone behind in the Greenwood, Lord Thráin and King Thrór would not have allowed me to remain with the group regardless of my saving Thorin’s sister and other citizens of Erebor from the dragon. I would guess that they would have forced me to go elsewhere or back to the Elves regardless of my banishment.”

With a small nod at the truth of her words, Bofur meets her gaze and holds it.

“Will you tell us about your family sometime?”

“Perhaps. If you will tell me about yours?”

He beams a bright smile at her and she finds herself smiling back in turn even as she hears others around them chuckling quietly. Even Thorin, from what she can see of him has an amused glint in his eyes as he watches them over his shoulder.

“I would be happy to, Liasia.”

She nods once, the smile remaining on her face even as she turns her attention back to the forest.

“Adar is called Tanyr and naneth is called Aváeira.”

Out of the corner of her right eye, she watches as Bofur tries to pronounce the unfamiliar Sindarin words before asking his question.

“What do those words mean?”

“Adar is the word for father and naneth is the word for mother in Sindarin.”

The group pauses for a brief break in the afternoon hour and Bofur sits next to her as someone asks a question she did not think to expect. 

“Are your parents still in Mirkwood?”

Hearing the forest she was born in the borders of referred to by another name jars something painful within her that she finds herself unable to put a name too. Though she forces her mind to consider the question rather than the name of the forest.

“When I left, my father still remained there with my siblings. I do not know for certain if he is still there. My mother.. does not.”

Gandalf has a knowing look on his face as rest of the Company shares a look between each other. 

“Your mother isn’t dead is she?”

She shakes her head, those sitting closest to her note the distant look in her eyes, wondering what memories she might be seeing.

“No. A month or two after the War of the Last Alliance, she had begun to feel the Sea-Longing, and made the choice to go West to the Undying Lands with her brother.”

“What does that mean?”

She tilts her head at Dori.

“To what are you referring too?”

The white haired Dwarf purses his lips as Ori and Nori look between them as if expecting their elder brother will explode.

“This Sea-Longing as you call it. Why your mother had it until she went to the West.”

She opens her mouth to respond, though Gandalf takes the chance to jump in and speak.

“It is a malady only common to all of Elven kind, Master Dori. The Sea-Longing is something different from any other known malady in that does not kill though it dwells deeply in the hearts of Elven kind and only becomes known if the Elf has laid eyes upon Belegaer, the Great Sea.”

“Does this Sea-Longing… does it kill them?”

Though she feels Bofur’s gaze on her as he stays near her, she refuses to meet it not knowing what she would see in his gaze and instead she only watches as Gandalf only shakes his head.

“No. It does not kill. However the Elf who feels the longing will not know peace again until they have answered the call.”

A sound draws her attention from the discussion and closing her eyes quietly, she tilts her head away slightly to listen closely to it. After a moment of listening to the sounds around the forest, she opens her eyes and looks to the others.

“We should get moving. Its not safe this area.”

They’re off running once the remains of their packs are gathered, she keeps near the edge of the line watching for dangers that they might not see as a silent equally watchful Bofur and Nori keep their pace beside her.

Through the night they run and into the next morning until both Gandalf and Thorin decide a break is needed to allow everyone to have some food and a brief rest off their feet when they satisfied that she cannot hear anything close by or off in the distance behind them. Spying a nearby rock, she goes over to it and climbs to the top where she crouches and watches the forest. After some time passes, and though she hears someone start climbing up behind her she doesn’t look to see who it is as a breeze shifts tree branches.

“Are we moving on then?”

“Nope. Not quite yet. Most everyone, including Thorin, is asleep aside from us and Gandalf. Though he might actually be asleep, I wasn’t to keen on checking and finding myself turned into something unsavory. Or accidentally killed.”

Ah, so it was Bofur who had apparently felt the need to join her atop the rock she had chosen to perch on to watch over the Company and finds her head nodding to his words.

“That would be a great loss to either option.”

“Would it?”

She blinks at the question, noting how quiet it is asked to her before turning her head to meet Bofur’s unreadable gaze.

“Yes. I imagine your family would be most upset to lose you in some fashion.”

“Would you be?”

A part of her balks at the question, that he has the need to ask that of her. Of course she would miss him. Mentally she chides herself, perhaps she should be more open with him about her feelings regarding him though she is not well practiced in sharing her feelings or talking about them in regards to another being. Either way she doesn’t take long to give him an answer and puts her hand on his shoulder before slowly reaching for one of his hands.

“Yes, Bofur. It would make me most upset if something happened to you. It - My heart would hurt... though the mere thought of you being hurt in some way already makes my heart want to weep.”

He looks at her then down at her hand where it rests lightly on top of his hand and his face changes, it becomes a little less closed off to a little more open and soft.

“Well that’s good to know. Here I thought I was imaging this growing thing between us.”

She tilts her head to the right, watching him.

“No, Bofur. If you are imagining then it would be a shared imagining of the mind between us both. I am not so good with my words most of the time like some of my kin are. I… I know I said that we would speak further when it was safer and I would come to you.”

He smiles lightly and rests his head lightly on her shoulder, not minding that she stiffens under the contact briefly before relaxing.

“Are you still holding to that? Personally I think you are perfectly well spoken already in comparison to the Rivendell Elves we met, lassie, no matter how serious you tend to be.”

“Yes, though only because I don’t know what to say and so I plan to hold to that until I do know what to say without offending you or your family. I do think that Bifur and Bombur would take great offense if that happened.”

He has the grace to look sheepish at that and grins at the same time.

“Ah.. So probably a good thing then. Though I don’t think that you will have to worry much about Bifur. Not sure what Bombur’s thoughts are.”

“Why wouldn’t I have to worry about Bifur?”

“Because that cousin of mine has been pushin’ at me to talk to you.”

She blinks at that and then looks down at the little camp to find Bifur awake and crafting something with the knife and wood in his hands then back to Bofur.

“Something tells me that I should believe you on that.. Has he had many bad days on this journey?”

He gives her a long silent look at the question.

“Not very many, aside from a few here an’ there. I think the trolls gave him some cause for one.”

She nods slightly.

“So I see. The trolls alone are enough to give anyone pause I would think.”

Silence falls between them as she looks away from him and their traveling companions back towards the forest around them. Listening to the sounds of the animals, the wind through the tree branches, and for signs that said anything dangerous was nearby. 

For the moment she could not hear that there was any danger was nearby.

“You look very deep in thought.”

“Simply listening to the forest, my dear Dwarf. It would be best I think to not be caught unawares by our enemies before we know they are there.”

“I can definitely agree to that.”

She nods once, then tenses as she hears something over the wind and feels Bofur remove his head from her shoulder.

“Go tell Thorin we need to move.”

“What is it?”

She shakes her head, listening closely to the sounds she heard before as she stands carefully on the stone.

“Liasia?”

“Go now, Bofur. I will follow shortly.”

She hears him leave and then hears the movement of the others as they quickly stand up, some of them swearing darkly under their breath as she feels more than one pair of eyes watch her movement. When she jumps down to join them and get her own pack, Thorin is there at her side immediately.

“What do your Elf ears hear?”

She fastens her pack over one shoulder and makes sure her weapons were secured before looking to him.

“Warg hunters. At least three that I could hear. I doubt that they are alone.”

“Right. All of you get moving now!”

As Thorin leaves her side, she watches with narrowed eyes as one of his hands lightly and gently brushes over Bilbo’s nearest shoulder as the Hobbit looks frightened before he takes off into the forest with Dwalin and Gandalf at his heels. She wonders what that means as she makes sure that every one of them is at least somewhere in front of her and not left behind for their pursuers to find.

They run and this time they do not stop for a break until they come to an outcropping of rocks where they are made to wait as Gandalf has Bilbo go ahead by himself on a path to check on the distance between them and their pursuers. She watches as the Dwarves push lightly at each other and mutter as they wait; only once does Bofur meet her gaze before he looks away to watch for Bilbo and then Bifur catches her attention with his use of both of spoken and unspoken languages of the Dwarven race.

One she knows near perfectly, the other she is still trying to learn and that’s mostly so she can easily converse with Bifur if he wishes to speak with her.

Before she can ask him what he wants, a breathless Bilbo returns to them and Thorin along with Gandalf set about asking what the little Hobbit had seen. For her part, she stays silent listening to them, the sounds of the area around them, and watches as tension sets in the shoulders of both Dori and Bofur.

Then they are off running again from the rocky forest and through into a large green field with bushes along a shallow stream. With the swift pace that they follow, their group enters another forested valley and she can hear the Orc pack following them as she urges the others to move faster as best they can.

She hears the creature behind them as they enter a clearing and make for a house that sits in the middle of it. A small part of her is surprised when Bombur somehow outruns them, including her with the long leggedness of the Tall Races.

With a burst of motion as nearly all of them collide with the wooden doors of the house, they are soon safely inside it much to her relief.

Taking a deep breath, she calms her racing heart and listens to what is being said around her.

“.. Can be reasoned with. However he is not overfond of Dwarves.”

She looks towards Gandalf as their companions start to look around and she hears Bombur’s now familiar steps come near her as she hears Bofur maintaining a nearby presence. 

“And what of Elves, Mithrandir? Does he have an opinion on my kind as well?"

He gives her only a small yet very mysterious knowing little smirk.

“We shall soon see, dear Elf.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff + plus a note in the notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin:
> 
> Meleth-nin -> my heart  
> Meleth -> love  
> Gi melin -> "I love you"  
> Guren min i-chaim lîn -> My heart is in your hands  
> Gi melathon an uir -> I love you for eternity
> 
> Quenya:  
> Meldanya -> my beloved
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> Sanâzyung - perfect (true/pure) love  
> Mizimelûh - my jewel of (all) jewels
> 
> 0  
> 0  
> 0
> 
> Notes: So if anyone feels that I'm using the wrong wordings (and/or spelling) feel completely free to let me know what the correct word should be. :)
> 
> Notes #2: Due to real life shenanigans and a family visit of the parental kind, I don't know when exactly chapter nine will be put up so I hope that you will enjoy the current 8 chapters until 9 can join the roster.

After the short conversing she does with Gandalf, she quietly decides that it is best to watch over the others from sidelines and moves to lean against a pillar that gives her a clear view of the entire room. To her surprise, a quiet Balin joins her and a limping Thorin follows him not a second later with one Dwalin lingering nearby and looking over his weapons as she watches Bofur help Bombur get a riled Bifur settled down.

Óin appears to be ignoring his brother as Glóin counts out what coin he currently has left.

The boys she can see are bouncing between bothering Bilbo and Ori as his brothers linger near him. She wonders who will be the one to break and make the first move in that little game before turning her attention to the two Dwarrow with her.

Who also appear to be watching her in turn. That’s rather interesting.

“Is something you need of me?”

They share a long look silent before they turn back to her and Balin sighs.

“We’re wondering if you would answer a question for us.”

She tilts her head towards them both and eyes them.

“That would depend on the question you intend ask, would it not?”

“Indeed. We have long wondered what sort of life you led before the fall of Erebor and following our kin through the wild.”

For a long moment after the question, she is silent instead of giving an immediate answer.

“Well?”

She sighs at the question.

“By my ninth year, I was fairly accomplished at the healing arts. Though my father is much better at the healing arts than I. In my tenth year, I began learning about weapons and with that came learning work in a smithy. By the time of my maturity years, I was learning and training to be a soldier. I worked my way through the ranks to earn their respect. After the War of the Last Alliance and up to the loss of Erebor, I had held a command position in the King’s Army.”

Two pairs of disbelieving eyes stare at her in shocked silence before Thorin clears his throat and asks roughly.

“Why didn’t you say anything before? We could have assigned to you more than just guard work even with the oath you declared before my father, my siblings, and I.”

She snorts.

“You cannot honestly tell me that your Father and Grandfather have allowed me to stay before I made my oath to them had they known of what I had been, Thorin. Knowing of the life I had willingly left behind would have brought more troubles no one needed or wanted then. They would have said I was a spy from Thranduil to watch your movements in exile and either kill me or send me away. I am however surprised though that you both have chosen to ask me this now.”

She watches them both shrug as Balin sighs.

“We are never certain of what questions you will or will not answer, Lassie.”

She shrugs lightly as she takes notice of a bee landing lightly on her arm for a brief rest before flying away again.

“You could always ask a question, Master Balin. I will not hurt any of you for attempting to ask something.”

The two Dwarrow share a look even as Fíli and Bilbo joins them while the younger Prince continues to make a nuisance of himself amongst the rest of their group despite their muttered threats against his person.

“Alright, here’s a question for you, Aunt. Any siblings?”

Her answer to that question is immediate without having to take much time to think about them as she glances at the young Dwarf and opens her mouth as she stares past them and stares into the distance.

“A sister and a younger brother.”

She notes the subtle widening of Thorin’s eyes and wonders silently if he’s thinking of his own familial siblings. About Dís and their deceased brother, Frerin.

“What do they do? Would they like us?”

“My sister is a healer in the healing halls and my brother was entering the Woodland Guard before I left. I do not know what they would think about any of you.”

A memory of her siblings comes forth, of her boldly stubborn sister and her quiet younger brother as the three of them listened to some story that their father was telling them before a discontented rumble from outside draws her attention as the night falls. Her eyes flick towards Gandalf, his slight nod tells her that he is aware of what lurks outside waiting. 

“You should get some rest. Tomorrow we will meet our host.”

She looks to the Dwarrow then nods slightly at Balin, before moving to find a suitable place to rest in the Elven way and sets her pack along a wall; she is unsurprised when the young Princes take up spots on her left for which she can only shrug in answer to Bofur’s unasked question while she notes that Thorin limps over to take up a spot by Bilbo with Dwalin and a few of the others settling nearby. He only shrugs in return as he takes up a spot near her and soon the quiet night air is filled with the sounds of sleeping creatures, Wizard, Hobbit, and Dwarrow alike.

Focusing on those sounds, she calls forth more pleasant memories and closes her eyes, only to open them not two hours later, when she hears the door open and her ears twitch at the sound of soft footsteps nearby. Eyes hooded she watches quietly as a figure cloaked by shadows enters the building, stops for a moment, and then disappears into another part of the house with a small goat following at the heels.

With the sun of the next day, she is the first of the Company to get up and greet day, one of the sheep lead her to a wash area where she cleans her face, changes her shirt, and returns to the main area where the others who appear to be stirring one by one as she stretches one arm over her head. Gandalf nods to her as she joins him at the table and takes a seat, pulling out of one her daggers to trace the design on its hilt as she listens to the sound of someone chopping wood outside.

“Will we be meeting our host on this day, Mithrandir?”

He nods a bit in reply as she slips the dagger away when the others start to join them.

“Yes, my dear. We will need his help to get to the edges of Mirkwood.. and certain members of our party who will remain nameless still need some time to heal before taking on the forest of Mirkwood.”

“Is it necessary to travel through that forest? There are other paths that the Company can take surely..”

She tilts her head slightly, not jumping though her spine stiffens when one of the others accidentally bumps into her from behind as Gandalf stares at her. Or rather likely through her very soul.

“I think that this discussion is best left for another time, my dear. What we do here now, needs our focus.”

She only nods stiffly as the Dwarves gather around them and she listens to the discussion as they debate about what to do next when Bilbo finally joins them and Gandalf begins to tell them all what to do. That Bilbo will come out with him first and then the Dwarves, except for Bombur, will come out in groups of two. 

He doesn’t quite say what she should do as she is an Elf.

“What would you do wish me to do as the Elf of the Company, Mithrandir?”

The old Wizard meets her gaze with a benign little smile as she stares at him and the others mutter around them.

“Why my dear, you will follow myself and Bilbo.”

She tilts her head forward in acknowledgement.

“As you wish.”

Standing, she moves away from the bench and goes to join them at the open door as they walk out of it; she hears Bofur ask the others what the signal is and finds herself wondering how well this meeting is going to go.

As they approach the tall skin shifter, she notes the skins in the tan coloring of his skin while Bilbo attempts to converse with Gandalf and stops near a grazing goat to let them get closer to make the attempt to speak with the man who is their host. He turns to them, holding tight to the handle on the axe and sees the moment when his strange unimpressed dark eyes find her.

“A Halfling, a Wizard, and an Elf. How come you all to be here?”

She watches as their host reacts to the various arrivals of their Company while Gandalf stutters and wonders if something will happen to make their reluctant host snap then change his form while in a rage. Thankfully that doesn’t happen and gradually their host calms enough that he invites them to share the breaking of the fast at his table. At the table she sits between Dwalin and Bofur while Gandalf is somewhere behind against the wall smoking his pipe, eating quietly as she listens to the table chatter around.

Something within her feels tight like a string about snap, not that she understands why the feeling is there. Not when they are in relative safety for the time being, but the odd feeling is there within her no matter how much she wants to ignore it.

Spotting a little white mouse that Bofur is reaching towards with the obvious intention to flick it off his arm, she is quick offer her own hand to the curious little creature and places it on her shoulder gently. Then her ears pick up the conversation again and she realizes the skin shifter - Beorn as he calls himself is at Nori’s back and watching her intently when she looks up to meet his gaze.

Neither of them break their stare as he speaks with knowing eyes and a strange dark smoky voice that drops her into unbidden memories and the distant beating of drums in her ears while the memory of smoke fills her lungs as the tight string within her tenses further.

“... ‘Safe’, a dark magic lies upon that forest while fell things move through its trees. The Elves of Mirkwood who dwell there are nothing like the rest of their Elven kin. Much less wise and more prone to being dangerous than their kin they are.”

The others make surprised sounds when she shoves herself away from the table with tightly fisted hands, her tiny passenger still somewhere on her body, and moves silently away from the table towards a pillar that she rests her forehead with her eyes closed against the cool wood uncaring of the number of eyes now upon her. After a moment, she feels a large hand gently pluck the little mouse off of her back as he turns to speak to Thorin.

“Though I hate Orcs more. What do you need?”

She gets herself together enough to answer over Thorin before he can answer, her own voice rough and hard as the others and Beorn watch her.

“Any help and supplies that you are willing to give us before we continue onward to... Mirkwood. We do have injured among our party that need time to rest and heal.”

He nods slightly as the little mouse climbs down his trouser leg and scampers across the floor through the hay towards the other animals.

“Of course. You and your fellows may stay as long as you need. Though I might call upon any of you should I require assistance.”

In that moment that she remembers herself, what she is, that she spoken for their leader without truly consulting him for his thoughts and glances towards a blank faced Thorin, who merely inclines his head slightly to her silent question, granting her permission to continue. She bows her head to Beorn.

“That sounds fair.”

He nods and she takes that moment to slip out a door once she’s certain that no one will see her leave. Of course her leaving is marked as a sheep and two goats follow after her.

An hour later finds her outside, sitting on a stump by the nearby lake with her light silvery hair free of its braids and running her fingers through it gently as the goats and sheep apparently acting as her guard graze near her. A song from her mother comes forth in her memories, from within her heart, and she opens her mouth to sing as she stares out over the water.

Her soul feels lighter as she sings the song even as her voice gets choked up on the words and she becomes aware after awhile of someone else with her and her animal companions. Sighing she switches to the Common Tongue.

“I can hear you.”

There’s a soft chuckle behind her, as she turns her head slightly to watch through a curtain of silver hair that person comes forward, revealing themselves to be Thorin. Not at all who she had expected, though neither was his presence unwelcome.

“Had you not heard me, I would have wondered if you truly of Elf kind.”

She smirks a little at him.

“I would have thought that with your injuries you would be resting. Not trekking out after the lone Elf of the group.”

He shrugs easily, the movement suggesting that he had been given something by their resident healer.

“Yes well, of our Company I felt it should be me instead of one of the others. Bofur however might come along soon.”

At the sound of Bofur’s name, a smile appears on her face and she ducks to hide her face from her friend and leader. Thorin chuckling in response is not something she expects to hear and she looks up towards him in surprise.

“Ah, so I was correct. I suspected as much.”

“Suspected?”

“That you and Bofur hold affections for each other. The rest of the Company suspects it as well.”

She makes a small sound of amusement.

“Of course they do. It does not surprise me then about the mutters of bets being made that I keep hearing about.”

“Indeed. Though I shall not tell our companions that they have not been quiet with their plots.”

He moves to stand in front, careful to not upset the grazing animals with them. Her eyes follow his movements before looking back up towards his face.

“I do wonder however about what you intend to do.”

She nods slightly, looking away from him.

“If you must truly know, I intend to speak with Bofur where upon he and I would talk about what we intend to do. This journey we’re on to the mountain is of great importance, I don’t know that starting a courtship now is right or wrong. I would consult my father for his knowledge if I were able to. Yet as Thranduil is unlikely to retract his decision regarding our exchange and my acceptance of my own banishment, I do not see that happening in this lifetime. In that regard he at least is somewhat like his father.”

She gives him a near watery smile that surprises him.

“Long has he been in my heart even in the days after Erebor had been lost when I barely knew him and was so very lost from the only world I had ever known. Thorin, I do not think that there is much I would dare deny him even if I could.”

He gives her a long look, silently glances behind her, and before she can look to see what he saw, he surprises her by kneeling in front of her then takes her right hand gently between his larger hands.

“If you recall you made a statement once that you did not give me a chance to refute those words and yet it gave me time to think of something acceptable to say in return. I say now, that though you are of Elf kind, you are also a dear sister to me and I would wish for you to be happy and sharing your life with a partner amongst my - _our_ people. You do not need to be alone, Liasia.”

Not trusting her voice to work, she places her left hand on top of their grouped hands and squeezes gently to convey her thanks as he gives what appears to be a small ghost of a smile in turn. He angles his head slightly to gaze around her right arm.

“Now I believe there is someone waiting to speak with you.”

Slightly surprised her head slowly turns of its own accord and follows his gaze to see Bofur standing a few feet from them, beyond him she thinks she sees Dwalin and Nori distracting the others with some kind of activity. Though she really only has eyes for Bofur and he meets her gaze calmly, with a pleased little smile.

Her ears catch Thorin’s movement as he lets go of her hands and stands to move away from the area as Bofur walks over to take his place. Kneeling in front of her, she gives him a smile of her own as he takes her hands into his.

“Bofur.”

“Liasia.”

She watches the expressions on his face as he gently caresses her hands with his thumbs as she calmly tilts her head to the side.

“Would this count as me finally coming to you then?”

“I think this would count as the two o’ us finally comin’ to each other. About time too, given the grumblings from others about us.”

His little grin gets a slightly watery little grin from her in turn.

“Indeed. I suppose you heard what words were had between Thorin and I?”

He nods.

“Aye. Though I did not know that you had fallen for little ol’ me from the beginning. Why didn’t ya say anything?”

She shrugs and forces herself to meet his knowing eyes.

“How could I? Everything had been so strange and new during that time, I doubt that anyone let alone you would have taken well to the sudden announcement that Elf was in love with one of your people. Perhaps King Thrór would ordered that I be chased from the camp or killed. Regardless of that… I had forced myself to look for something resembling duties I was familiar with that would allow me to not think about my heart and give me back some form of duty that I could focus on. Though it was hard since I was mostly staying with you and your family at the time, but…”

He nods like he knows where she might go with that thought.

“Understandable. I think I can understand that. You have certainly said before your entire focus has always been dedicated to some duty or other. But surely some of that great focus of yours can be focused elsewhere yes?”

Gently she puts her forehead lightly against his hatted head.

“Yes, it can be. Even were the song not present and had we somehow found each other without it, I would not ignore you. Back then watching you leave each time learning a new craft though I knew you would return was hard I admit. Though I couldn’t, there were times I wished to follow you and watch you work at your new craft. Even if I wanted to, I do hold doubt that there is much, I would not deny you much, Bofur.”

He chuckles softly at her words, her heart warming at the sound of it as her mind memorizes the sound of it.

“To think we could have had this sooner if we had simply spoken?”

She blinks into the curve in the top of his hat.

“What do you mean?”

He pulls away slightly to meet her gaze and the smile on his face stays despite the somewhat serious tone of his voice.

“Only that we could have had this sooner regardless of where your focus was, had we spoken more sooner. I think I had known my One was close by, not that I had been looking before mind you, being a miner in Erebor. But I think I knew it was you by the time Thorin had called for anyone who would to join him on this merry little quest of his.”

She shakes her head and laughs a little, he finds that really he very much likes the sound of her laugh.

“What a pair we make. Meleth-nin, meldanya… my heart and love are yours if you will have it.”

He beams at her and headbutts her chin gently as he squeezes her hands between his.

“I accept, my heart. Sanâzyung, mizimelûh… if you will have both, my heart and love are yours.”

She smiles as her song soars higher than she had thought possible.

“I accept, meleth..”

Though she wants to say more, his mouth is there on hers in a surprisingly deep kiss and this time it is her soul that soars to heights higher than she had believed possible as her eyes close of their own accord. She lost herself to it and forgot for a moment where they were. Of who was with them. Of where the other members of their Company were at.

Lost herself to the sensation of his mustache and beard against her skin as he mapped her mouth and she returned the favor. 

She is sure that they would have remained lost in it until the end of time, had her animal companions not decided to intervene as one of the goats bleated loudly and the other headbutted her hip hard enough to startle her out of the kiss to look at the animal in surprise. Bofur gives an amused snort and kisses the edge of her chin.

He grins when she turns to look him, his dark eyes dancing in amusement.

“Seems you have protectors and escorts, my dear.”

The goats bleat affirmative little sounds as the sheep bobs its head in a strange little nod and she shrugs lightly.

“So it seems.”

He laughs softly at her mildly annoyed tone, only the barest bit surprised that he knows her well enough that he can almost completely tell when his dear Elf is annoyed about something or when she is pleased. At her giving him a stink eye, he gives her an innocent dimpled grin that seems to amuse her then and with intent eyes she bends slowly to nuzzle a spot that he had not known existed under the right side of his jaw that makes him shiver just so in delight before speaking her native tongue next to his ear.

“Gi melin, Bofur. Guren min i-chaim lîn. Gi melathon an uir.”

“Mizimelûh...”

She feels him shudder and then nuzzle the side of her neck before he smiles into her skin. Then they kiss each other gently in a way that leaves them both breathless with swollen lips and one of the goats making a threatening stance that really did not look at all threatening. She laughs softly at its antics as he snorts softly.

“So threatenin’ that little bugger thinks itself to be.”

“Indeed.”

He tilts his head with a small smile as he leans into her legs and wraps his arms around her middle, she bends over him and wraps her arms loosely around him. For a few minutes they simply sit in silence, enjoying the other’s presence until Bofur sighs.

“What are you thinking of?”

“Thinkin’ of you had said of courting.”

“What of it?”

“On the issue of starting a courtship now or later. We don’t know what will happen in the forest of Mirkwood or beyond it once we reach the other side of the forest. As much as I want to put a courtship braid in your hair it might best to wait until after venturing through Mirkwood and we’ve managed to reclaim the Mountain. The rest we can figure out after.”

She nods slightly in understanding.

“Of course. That is something I can agree with.”

He nods against her stomach before slowly pulling away from her to gently tug her down to the ground with him and takes her mouth in a searingly hot kiss that leaves her dizzy and both of them boneless against each other. This time they don’t break it even when her little guardians take to headbutting their hips.

Eventually the goats make a show of giving up as they go about grazing near them and the lovers pull away as Bofur tucks his head under her chin quietly listening to her heartbeat as her chest rises with a slow intake of air while she watches the sky above them.

A loud shout from where the others are, reaches her ears and she feels movement from Bofur as he pushes himself up with one hand to look towards and observes the others before looking down at her, smiling softly when she meets his gaze.

“Shall we join them, my lady?”

For a small moment she is silent before pushing herself up with her hand and lightly kisses him. She will have some pleasant memories to recall when she takes her rest this night and she pulls back to look at him.

“Come then, my heart. Let us see what the others are up too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness for the uploading of this chapter. Life happened.
> 
>  
> 
> **Quenya:**
> 
>  
> 
> Esse (n) -> name  
> Anessi -> given names  
> Ataresse ** -> father-name  
> Amilesse -> mother-name  
> Epesse -> after-name or honorary title  
> Kilmesse -> chosen-name (or self-name)
> 
>  
> 
> ** There doesn't appear to be an attested term in Quenya, but tolkiengateway seems to think this would be the agreed term for father-name. Other searches to other sources seem to agree with that.
> 
> (If I'm wrong, please correct me ^^)

Together they walk towards the rest of the Company - well the Dwarven members for the most part as it appeared that the Wizard and their Hobbit burglar were elsewhere. Maybe with their host he wonders? He takes the time to observe his lover as they walk together, her hair is a stunning silver that he has never seen on any other elf that he is able to recall and yet it distinctly reminds him of the mithril veins that he had once mined so long ago in Erebor before the mountain fell, whereas her eyes are a shimmering green like that of emeralds when she is in a calm frame of mind. 

When she is in a wrathful mood, her eyes are dark as a starless night sky and he feels as though he is looking at a completely different Elf. If he’s honest, he rather prefers her in a more calmer frame of mind as he has witnessed some of her anger before and he would like to not see it again. 

“Bofur?”

Ah, so she had caught him watching her not that he minds really; though they’ve stopped moving towards the others so he gives her a sheepish grin that she blinks twice at before slowly giving him a tiny grin in return.

He makes a soft sound when she swoops down to press a feather light kiss to his right cheek before pulling herself away with her dancing green eyes full of silent laughter as her hand takes his shoulder and squeezes gently.

“You appear to be thinking about something, my Dwarf.”

He puts one hand gently on top of the hand that she has on his shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Only of you. Of us. Good things I promise.”

She tilts her head a bit to the side as he watches, noting the softening expression on her normally calmly stern face before she crouches to his height.

“I will admit some curiosity to your thoughts, my love.”

Grinning cheekily, he pretends to think long and hard about it for which she retaliates by gently tugging him to the ground with her, down onto her lap, and wrapping her arms around him, her mouth near his ear.

“Hey now!”

He feels her smile against the soft edge of his ear and her arms briefly tighten around him before loosening a bit.

“You’re not truly upset are you, love?”

“No, no. Not at all, my dear. Simply trying to put thoughts into words to answer you.”

She sighs softly and nuzzles the shell of his ear ever so lightly as he opens his mouth to speak his thoughts.

“You are stunningly beautiful, my shining jewel above jewels. The treasure of my heart. Your eyes are like newly found emeralds and your hair shines like the mithril veins that I had mined once in Erebor. You are far more caring and kinder than any other creature I have met in Arda. You are also far more careful and cautious in who you have open affections for. That -”

She cuts in briefly with a soft voice behind his ear, her nose brushing lightly against one of his braids.

“Does that bother you? My being cautious about whom I place my affection with?”

Hearing the soft tone in her voice, he twists around in her hold and puts one hand gently against her cheek that she sighs softly as she leans into his warm touch.

“No, my dear. I am not bothered by it; it is something that is part of your being and I have come to love that about you. That you an Elf would openly knowingly place your heart, trust, and affections with a Dwarf like me. You are my One and I will always love you.”

He feels the shiver she tries to suppress that makes itself known through her body and gently caresses her lips before she ducks her head, their foreheads meeting lightly.

“Something wrong?”

He watches her shake her head slightly, before she eventually meets his gaze.

“No. Not wrong per say. What is now between us is so new and unexpected as much as I wish to understand my own feelings at times. I think though that this what I would sometimes overhear newly mated partners speak of.”

Softly he chuckles.

“You are not alone in wanting to understand, my jewel. Did you listen to them fairly often?”

Another shake of her head.

“Not willingly no. They would sometimes be in the areas that I would be watching and patrolling in when I lived in the Greenwood forest still. Sometimes I would hear the whispers they would make of the unwed elves. Making speculation about their fates if they did not find a mate.”

“Did their words bother you?”

She shakes her head lightly.

“I did not let it bother me. At that time I could not. I admit there was a small part of me back then that wondered if I had a mate of my own waiting for me to find them though I had sworn myself to duty first. Anything else would come second. At least it had been so until the fall of Erebor. Until you and I met.”

For a moment she falls silent and to his eyes, she appears to be lost in her thoughts before before she looks at him with something quite like a question in her eyes.

“In Rivendell, there was a red rose laying on my pack when I returned to where the Company was staying from one of their gardens, was it from you?”

He nods with a small sheepish grin.

“Yeah that’d be me. After you had left, I overheard Ori asking our burglar some questions about his culture. I heard something mentioned about a language of flowers and listened to Bilbo go on about it before I went looking for their gardens and found a rose that reminded me of you. Did you like it?”

She smiles and lightly presses her lips to the palm of his hand.

“I did. I thought it to be a very beautiful gift though that at the time, I was uncertain of who to thank for the gift. Now that I do, I must think of a proper way to thank you for the gift.”

He feels his cheeks warm as he grins sheepishly at her.

“Now you don’t have to go and do something like that, Liasia. Really -”

Gently she puts a finger to his lips in an effort to silence him softly and smiles at him, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“I think I do, my Bofur. It would please me if you allow that it so, I could gift you something in return for that gift.”

To his surprise, the calm mask on her face breaks a bit and a shadowed emotion he is not quite able to identify immediately briefly crosses over her face as she looks away for a moment then back to meet his gaze as the calm mask resettles upon her face.

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head slightly at the question.

“Not so much wrong as I do not know what I could give you in return for that gift. I will do my best to think of something.”

Nodding slightly, he opens his mouth to respond though he is kept from responding by the pouncing of two Princelings despite the others calling them back. He laments privately in his mind that Liasia’s arms are no longer around him as two enthusiastic young Dwarrow Princelings come between them and make what leads to many attempts to wrestle her into submitting to both of them.

A hand appears in front of his face disrupting his watch of their play and he looks up to see a pleased Thorin waiting for him to take his hand and Balin standing next to him as Dwalin comes stomping towards them. He takes the hand and accepts his King’s help in standing up by taking hold of his unarmoured wrist; the Dwarven King who had long claimed a She-Elf, his One as a sister and Aunt to his nephews.

Once standing, he tries to move towards the three still wrestling on the ground though he is stopped when Thorin takes hold of his wrist in turn and finds two pairs of eyes watching him steadily. He frowns lightly.

“What?”

“I would ask that you tell me, Bofur, what is now between you and our Elf.”

Thorin meets his gaze evenly as Balin rubs his face with one hand and sighs softly next to their King. The question Thorin asked is certainly one to think about as he tests the strength of Thorin’s hold on his wrist; what is now between them? They have acknowledged that there is love shared equally between them.

Anything more are paths that they have not spoken about just yet.

He sighs as he tugs gently on one of his braids before looking at the two watchful Dwarves.

“We have acknowledged that we are each other’s Ones and that we love each other. Anything else is something that we have yet to truly discuss.”

“What of courting?”

He glances towards his Elf as Dwalin moves over to the group of three on the ground then back at Balin, who watches quietly with a small smile on his face.

“Only that we might wait after until the ending of the quest to the mountain and its reclaiming. We haven’t discussed yet about if we’ll follow the ways of the Dwarven folk or the ways of her people. Liasia didn’t seem to know how well the trip through Mirkwood would go or how her kin would react to the idea of an Dwarf and Elf courting, so she thought it best to wait and discuss anything further after we made it through the forest.”

Pensive Balin only nods once as Thorin slowly releases his wrist while a grim expression.

“Perhaps that is for the best. Especially when none of us are certain how things will play out once we leave Master Beorn’s halls.”

Thorin also nods, his eyes for the moment distant as they stare over his shoulder and his voice rumbled like thunder in a stormy night.

“Aye. No one knows what may come once our journey continues towards Erebor. And yet…”

He swallows when Thorin pins him in place with stormy blue eyes.

“And yet I would see the both of you happy. Her especially so, when she has given much to help our people and see to our safety with her own life. Standing in the way of happiness and companionship finally found is not something I would do no matter what you choose upon the completion of our quest.”

A loud shout grabs their attention back to those wrestling on the ground and for a few moments, a stab of jealousy swallows his heart at the sight of a pleased Dwalin sitting on Liasia’s stomach who ignores her attempts to free herself as he keeps a swearing Kíli pinned on the ground with one hand while Fíli circles them watching warily. She turns her eyes towards him and the jealousy in his heart withers away to nothing but love as her gaze softens and he smiles at her.

He turns his eyes towards Balin as he chuckles softly and his smile is soft when the two Dwarves look at him.

“New love. It is really rather a beautiful thing. Regardless of the difference in species of the pairing, I doubt that anyone, even our King, would truly stand in the way of our Maker’s will.”

Thorin snorts softly as Fíli finally throws caution to the winds as he makes his move and pounces on Dwalin, leaving an opening for Liasia to take advantage of the distraction to roll away before making her way over to their group of three. Standing beside him, she inclines her head respectfully towards Thorin and Balin as he leans into her side while putting an arm around her.

She looks at him with soft eyes as he squeezes her middle gently. 

“What have you been discussing with these two, Bofur?”

He slants an amused look at her for the question and gets an innocent look in return as though she wouldn’t have already known with her Elven hearing. Balin chuckles again as Thorin snorts amused.

“Merely making inquiries to Bofur here about what you have discussed since Thorin left you two alone.”

“I see.”

She nods slightly, he watches as her expression closes off before she pins them with an inquiring look.

“Tell me something. Beyond what I have shared, what do you already know of the Elves?”

A considering look takes shape on Balin’s face as the Dwarves wrestling on the ground are joined by Nori while Dori joins their group of four dragging Ori along with him despite his protesting. A look around shows him that Bifur and Bombur are with Glóin and Óin off to the side, quietly doing their own thing.

“I have heard tell of Elven marriage traditions as a younger Dwarf before Erebor fell. Is it true that in troubled times, that Elves will forego the marriage rituals and accompanying feasts to allow the marrying pair to physically consummate their bond.” 

Ori blushes as his older brother sputters and she stares at Balin in silence before glancing at him then back to the white haired Dwarf clearing her throat with a slight nod.

“I won’t ask how you know that one, Master Balin, but yes that one is true. Only for when there is a pair choosing to marry during such a time.”

“Is it something that happens often then?”

She shakes her head at the question, the tone of her voice quiet and considering.

“No, it is not something that would happen often. The act itself is viewed as extremely special and intimate by my people for it would eventually be leading to the conception and eventual birth of children. In the Second Age, before the War of the Last Alliance happened, I saw many pairs come together during that time though none of them ever married. Even that way. They may have felt that it would have torn them from each other before their new lives together could truly begin. Not that it mattered much when most of them were lost when we fought at Mordor. Most of them… aside from our King, most of those we lost there were dear friends.”

They all watch as she seems to stare into the past before she shakes herself out of her memories and his arm around her middle tightens slightly.

“Liasia?”

She aims a slight smile at them that seems to have become brittle in its edges at them before looking away.

“Its nothing.”

He sends a look towards Balin and Thorin, asking him silently to help move the conversation to a different topic. One hopefully not likely bring up unwanted memories for anyone as a look of consideration appears on Thorin’s face.

“I have heard through cultural lessons as a young Prince, my Lady, that like the Dwarven folk, Elves also have more than one name.”

She is silent at hearing the not quite question as her three animal companions mill around them before she eventually nods.

“Aye. That is true, it is a tradition passed down from the High Elves in the Year of The Trees that states Elven kind can have if they wish up to four names. Each of these are gained at various points in our lives. Three of which we consider to be our “true names” and are the anessi - the given names of the Elf. Two are used in public. The third one is used only by family members and close friends.”

“And the last one?”

A thoughtful look crosses her face.

“The last is simply the “after-name” or an honorary title that is gained later in the Elf’s life.”

She is quick to forestall any new questions by raising up her unoccupied hand, wiggling her fingers intent to use them for the information she would share.

“The anessi as follows; ataressë means father-name which is based at times on the father’s own name or chosen from our own history, amilessë means mother-name often thought to be prophetic in its nature - is sometimes given around or at birth though is often given later in life. Both of these are public until the Elf gains his or her epessë. Next is the epessë means after-name or honorary title gained by an Elf later in life. The last one is the kilmessë which is the chosen name. This one is personally chosen by an Elf and may be thought of as one that can be a disguise or it may refer to the deeds, talents or the Elf’s personal history.”

“What are yours?”

“Liasia?”

She sighs at the unasked question in his voice.

“... My after-name or title is Othwen. The name my father gave me is Míreth. My mother named me Bereneth. One would say that Liasia is my kilmessë, though others would scoff at it and try to suggest something else.”

Though her expression doesn’t change while her hand goes back down to her side as she tilts her head at the question and watches them with keen assessing eyes.

“I would however prefer that you use the one name I shared with you before today. Tell me though, how many names do the Dwarrow have?”

“You do not already know?”

She shrugs at their apparent surprise and shock.

“I have heard many whispers on the subject over the years I have spent with your people, but could never confirm anything for my own curiosity. Even to a friend, the Dwarves are still quite fierce in protecting many of their secrets.”

The Dwarves all share a silent look and Thorin glances at Balin, who sighs a sigh that sounds very put upon.

“Very well. Listen well, my Lady.”

“I’m listening.”

She nods, looking far more like a interested curious little Elfling with a fascinated gleam in her eyes waiting to hear a new lesson intent on listening to Balin’s words and less like the old though ageless warrior she appears to them as.

“Now our language has remained unchanging through the Ages of this world and same goes for our ways of naming our children. The first name - or something closer to dark names as we sometimes call it - is in Khuzdul and given to us by Mahal, thus only a Dwarf and their family knows what it is. Then the second name. This one is in the common tongue and is known to all those we come into daily contact with; it is often times the name of another Dwarf that they resemble in appearance or through personality.”

She makes a soft sound after he finishes the brief lesson.

“One would probably think they could learn all that there is to know about Dwarves and be so very wrong. Truly an intriguing race you are.”

One of the goats - a new one that he is fairly certain hadn’t been with them before - suddenly bleats and headbutts his legs, much to the amusement of the others.

“Oh come on. What have I done now?”

His beautiful Elven lady has now tilted her slightly to the side with an amused glint in her eyes, watching the little goat as it continues to headbutt him then headbutts her in turn before moving to do the same to the others and then turn on its own fellows.

“I think this little one wishes for us go somewhere. Back to the house perhaps?”

The little goat bleats an affirmative sound and attempts to drag her away by the leg of her trousers and she grins at its attempts to move her along.

“Come then. Let us see what awaits in the house before this one steals away with my trousers.”

That gets a few loud snorts from the Dwarrow around her as she rescues her trouser leg from an eager young goat and meets the amused eyes of her new lover.

Her Heart One.

And she was his One.

She realizes she is staring only when he squeezes her middle as the others move around and with them, his eyes soft yet concerned as they walk together.

“What are you thinking of, my girl?”

Glancing at the others, she bends low towards his ear.

“Only of you, my love. Of perhaps finding some time away from the others for a while. Is that agreeable to you?”

The hot, hungry look he gives her as they reach the house tells that some part of him or all of him is agreeable with her suggestion as it sends a light shiver up her spine. 

0

As it turns out lunch is waiting for them when they return and Bilbo coughs around his pipe at the sight of them while Gandalf merely aims a small mysterious smile at them all.

“Ah, so good of you all to join us. You’re quite lucky I was here to distract Bilbo from the food otherwise our Hobbit would have eaten everything and not left anything on the table before you had a chance to get something.”

Balin chuckles lowly with a small smile on his lips as all of them find places at the table, Bofur taking a place beside his Elf as his brother and cousin jostle for a spot on his other side.

“Then we thank you, Master Gandalf, for playing the part of distractor with our burglar until we could get here and share this meal.”

For the most part, they eat the meal together in silence for the most part; the others sharing amused looks and snickers as they watch the game of stealing food from each other that the two lovers created in jest.

At least there is silence until Bilbo breaks it by clearing his throat to get the attention of their Elven companion.

“Lady Liasia?”

She breaks the gaze that Bofur and she are sharing, look at him with a raised eyebrow in question.

“Yes, Master Baggins.”

“I wonder if you might answer a question?”

She blinks slowly as her other eyebrow slowly joins its counterpart, her voice is soft when she speaks as one of her hands settles lightly on Bofur’s nearest leg.

“I would think you know my feelings regarding questions by now, Master Baggins. Though shall I give you leave to ask your question?”

The Hobbit only sends his eyes up towards the sky, his pipe now forgotten in the moment and lightly smoking.

“The silver coloring of your hair; is that unique to you alone?”

She glances sidelong at her own hair in silence, thinking of her answer to his question as the others watch while they eat.

“It is a trait passed down from the Elves of old, more specifically I think from the Telerin Elves. Through the Ages, there have been other Elves with silver hair. Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien, husband to the Lady Galadriel has silver hair. Then to your question the answer is no, Master Baggins, this trait is not unique to myself though I am a descendant of the line through the Sindar Elves.”

“Not even your parents?”

She shakes her head lightly.

“No. They both have very light blonde hair. My younger siblings were both blonde, though my brother’s hair was a slight shade darker than theirs.”

“Ah. Well thank you for the answer, my Lady.”

“Indeed.”

She inclines her head slightly before turning her eyes back to catch Bofur’s gaze and they resume their little game of food stealing.

0

After the noon meal is finished and cleared away with everyone moving to nap or find other ways to distract themselves under the midday sun; she sends a careful look towards Bofur, who merely grins saucily at her and puts their packs into his coat before she gently takes aside one of their animal hosts and asks if they could shown to shown to one of their master’s guest rooms, ignoring for the moment the heat pooling in her stomach.

The spotted dog leads them through a long hallway of closed rooms that she assumes are either bedrooms or store rooms of some sort to a room at the end of it that holds a bed large enough for two people or if so wished more than two. It also has two sitting chairs and some areas for them place their packs on if they wish.

There’s also a large bowl of water with clean cloths and a pitcher of water next to it on a stand near the bed.

After thanking their guide and shutting the door behind her, she sits on the edge of the chairs, watching as he moves around taking a look around before going to her and taking her right hand into his.

“It’s a nice room, don’t you think?”

She smiles at him as she squeezes their hands together and hums softly under her breath while watching him.

“Much nicer when you are in it with me, my love.”

His answering grin makes the beating of her heart quicken as a fire begins to make its way through her veins as he puts his forehead gently against hers and watches her with darkened eyes.

“I would have to agree, my dear. It is quite the nicer room with your presence in it.”

Though there is a question in his eyes, she puts her lips to his warm soft mouth and pulls him into a deep breathtaking kiss. After a while they reluctantly pull themselves apart to take a new breathe and he grins widely at her.

“Declaring your intentions to me again, my dear?”

She gives a small warm grin of her own.

“I am. I hope you don’t mind, my love. You are mine, Bofur. Just stating my intent until we decide to show that you are mine and I am yours in other ways. I desire you with the entirety of my heart and soul, my dear Dwarf.”

The deep groan that escapes her Dwarf is a new sound that she is new to hearing as Bofur claims her mouth in a deep kiss that sends her soul soaring high once more and loses herself to it before he pulls away to lightly kiss her forehead.

“You have no idea what you do to me, my dear…”

She laughs softly and nips at the side of his mouth, kissing it lightly as his body seems to melt into hers while groaning at the action.

“The things we do to each other.. we could do together with the same results.”

For one horrible moment he freezes in place and in her heart she fears that she might have killed what had between them in one fell swoop before he pulls back to look at her. She feels like she can breathe again when she see his love and desires for her in his eyes. In the entirety of his own being.

His voice is breathless and tiny when he does eventually speak, his gaze heated as it holds her in place.

“I love you, you know that yes?”

She nods with a smile, releasing his hand to run her fingers up and down his arms.

“I know and I love you as well, Bofur. You are the one I want in my life. The only one I am content to share my life with in this way. You, the only one that is and will ever be my Heart One.” 

His mouth roughly reclaims hers and she pulls him into her lap, her hands moving over his clothed broad body and her back pressing into the lining of the chair back while their mouths are occupied.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not intend for there to be a long(ish) delay between chapter updates, but researching needs for the fic aside, this one definitely needed to be slightly delayed for my own comfort as there was one small scene that I needed to sit on and think about for a bit. Or if I should have rewritten the chapter completely a third time without it regardless of what the fickle muse demands.
> 
> The next chapter shouldn't take as long to finish and upload, but no promises as I've got other things also churning in the writing space.
> 
>  **Elvish** :
> 
> Names:
> 
> *Othwen - "War or Battle Maiden"  
> *Bereneth - "Bold One"  
> *Mireth - "Jewel or Treasure"
> 
>  
> 
> In my search of looking up all things Elvish and(or) related to Elves of Middle Earth, I found that "Lia" means thread so my brain just took that created something around that word for "Liasia", hence what she tells Bofur in this chapter.
> 
> *ninja vanish*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His voice is breathless and tiny when he does eventually speak, his gaze heated as it holds her in place.

“I love you, you know that yes?”

She nods with a smile, releasing his hand to run her fingers up and down his arms.

“I know and I love you as well, Bofur. You are the one I want in my life. The only one I am content to share my life with in this way. You, the only that is my Heart One.”

His mouth roughly reclaims hers and she pulls him into her lap, her hands moving over his clothed broad body and her back now pressing into lining of the chair back while their mouths are occupied.

They lean back against pillows propped up by the wall, Bofur relaxed next to her and holding onto her left hand gently as they simply enjoy each other’s presence without the others bothering them.

“Liasia?”

She opens her eyes and slowly turns her head towards him.

“Yes?”

“Your names, do they mean anything?”

The question doesn’t surprise her nor is she surprised that it was Bofur who asked the question.

“They do indeed mean something though the language of the Elves has been known to change the meanings from time to time. Othwen means “War or Battle Maiden”, Bereneth means “Bold One”, and Míreth means “Jewel or Treasure”. Does that satisfy your question, my Dwarf?”

He starts to give a slow nod before he stops and then tilts his head, to look at her.

“The name you use over the other ones... I noticed you didn’t say that it means anything.”

She scrunches her nose up in a way that he privately thinks makes her look rather adorable in his eyes. He stifles a small laugh at the look on her face though he doesn’t think she is fooled very much by the attempt with the mock glare that she’s giving him.

“The name is one that my siblings gave me and I accepted as my chosen name. Yet it… doesn’t quite translate that well between Sindarin and the Common Tongue as much as I would like for it too. That is if you really want to know, Bofur.”

He nods slightly.

“I would like to know.”

She sighs, looking at their joined hands.

“Very well. Loosely it means “Protective Heart Thread” in the Common Tongue.”

For a brief moment there is silence between them before he raises their hands up and gently presses a kiss into the top of her hand, she holds back a shiver of delight that the small action brought her.

“Bofur?”

He grins merrily at her.

“Right translation or not, you said the name was given to you by your siblings which implies that it was a gift and yet I’d say it suits you rather well.”

One corner of her mouth twitches upwards slightly.

“Do you now?”

“I do.”

As he grins, one of his hands - his right hand strays from its fellows as she watches him and towards her left ear, drifting lightly from the pointed tip down the outer edge to where the bottom of her ear meets the back of her jaw and neck. A shiver that she can not suppress in time makes itself known.

He repeats the gesture and chuckles at the look she gives him.

“So Elven ears are sensitive are they? How ever does your lot get anything done when you have such sensitive ears?”

Sighing gustily, she moves fast and kneels in front of him before he even thinks to blink, trapping his legs between hers. He blinks his surprise as she moves to kiss his forehead, his nose, and then his mouth. He moans softly when she gently catches his bottom lip with her teeth, making a soft sound of loss when she releases his lip to duck down to nuzzle his neck.

His fingers tangle themselves in her hair even as she pulls back to look at him with a calm serious look that is somewhat ruined by the heat of her gaze.

“I am certain you will keep that knowledge to yourself and use it only when we meet in a bed, my love.”

His mouth crashes into hers and together they lose themselves to sensation and kissing once more.

0

She has finished braiding her hair back into its normal braid and watching birds land in the lake when their host joins her.

“I will admit that I am surprised by the sight of a member of the Elven kind willingly keeping company with Dwarves. I have not seen such a thing in a very long time. Yet I find myself wondering why an Elf as old you are willingly keeps company with Dwarves.”

She doesn’t look away from watching the surface of the water.

“They allowed me to stay with them after the Mountain was lost to the dragon. When I willingly had lost the home that had once been mine in going to help them.”

Beorn snorts softly.

“Not just because one of them wants to mate with you I hope.”

“No. But he is my One and I am his. I would not part myself from his side willingly.”

There’s a rumble of what sounds like approval to her ears.

“I doubt that even the gods of this world would dare to part you two for as strange a pair you make.”

Later she finds Thorin alone and they take a short walk around the area, near enough that the others could still see them and joined them if they wished.

After a while they come to a pair of large boulders where they stay awhile smoking their pipes and relaxing.

“If I asked a question would you answer me honestly, Thorin?”

He stares at her in silence before giving a slow nod.

“It would depend on the manner of your question, but yes I would answer.”

She inclines her head towards him respectfully.

“Will you tell me more what the goal of this quest is about? Is it more than just freeing the mountain from the grasp of the Dragon is it not? It is more than reclaiming a home for the Dwarrow of Erebor I sense.”

She searches his gaze for her answer, almost as though she were attempting to read his very soul, and when she finds it, her strange Elven eyes widen as her breath stutters in her throat.

“The Arkenstone. The King’s Jewel. You wish to find the Heart of the Mountain as it was once bestowed upon your Grandfather.”

Her King, sworn brother in arms, and friend makes an amused sound.

“Yes, would it be that I cannot hide much from you, if to keep you from guessing the nature of our quest. With the King’s Jewel, I would be able -”

She nods.

“You would be able to call the seven other Dwarf kingdoms and have them answer the Oath that they made to your Grandfather over the Arkenstone. To perhaps have their help and armies to deal with the Dragon in the mountain?”

He nods as he watches her with assessing eyes.

“Aye. That is my plan. Are you opposed to it?”

She shakes her head.

“No. I swore an Oath of duty and loyalty to you and your line. You are my King, my brother in arms, and I will follow you.”

“Good.”

She tilts her head then, watching him through the smoke from her pipe.

“And what of the one I have seen your gaze turn towards? Does he have a place somewhere in all of your plans, my King?”

He shrugs lightly with a flash of teeth digging into his pipe.

“I do not know. Would I know if he even _sees_ that which I could give him? When I have nothing to give him?”

She releases a breath of smoky air as she nods slightly.

“Do not tarry too long, else you may lose the chance that lay before you once the quest is complete. And the longings of the heart may yet be more than you can bare.”

They return to the others in silence and more than once as she watches from where she sits beside Bofur and the two Princelings as the gaze of her King strays not just once, yet twice from the active discussion of what remains now in their quest to the smallest member of their Company.

0

“Tomorrow we make for the forest lands of Mirkwood.”

The next morning while the Company still is gathered together after lunch, Thorin and Gandalf come together to tell that they will be heading for the forest of Mirkwood the next day. She stares unseeingly into the distance between their shoulders, ignoring for the moment all else around her as her mind slowly takes in the information that they had shared.

Though her soul had once cried for the forest that had once upon time been her home and entire world, it isn’t doing that now. Her breathe and the air in her lung feels as though it has been stolen away. It now feels more like dread is attempting to settle in her soul at even the tiniest thought of seeing her old home again.

“You will have the time left of this day to get prepared for the next leg of this quest.”

She turns away from the others and forces herself to breathe, to not let panic take hold of her heart then forces herself to go outside. To be outside under the sun and feel its light - its gentle warming heat - on her body, in her soul before they leave for Mirkwood tomorrow.

They watch her leave through the door before sharing silent concerned looks among each other, though not yet moving to follow her. Bilbo voices a question that is on near everyone’s mind.

“Will she be alright? I mean she looked a little paler than normal, should she be really alone?”

Balin shakes his head lightly and starts to answer his question, even as a frowning Thorin himself looks ready to answer.

“Consider something for the moment, Bilbo. She is about to see the very home and perhaps even what family members of hers still remains in the forest that she willingly left behind so many years ago when Erebor fell tomorrow. No one here knows for certain what will happen tomorrow, not even her. How would you feel if you were in her position?” 

They all watch the emotions that flicker quickly across their Hobbit’s face, eventually something like understanding appears and he frowns a bit.

“I guess I wouldn’t know what exactly I would feel about it.”

Balin nods, looking a bit pleased.

“Right. Give her some space and time alone to sort herself out.”

Thorin also nods.

“Indeed. But let us not leave her to her own devices for too long. She may yet desire company soon enough.”

He isn’t sure at first why the two Dwarves glance meaningfully towards Bofur and then at the two Dwarven Princes, who all nod their understanding.

One of the goats bleats quietly before heading out the open door with one of its fellow goats and a sheep. He watches the three animals depart before sending a curious look to Bofur, who only shrugs and grins a bit.

An hour later, she is sitting cross legged on a tree stump and with one hand holding back a ornery little goat that insists on headbutting some part of her body. There are a few other goats and a sheep grazing quietly nearby, yet she isn’t quite certain why this one has chosen to behave in such a manner towards her.

_“Adar?”_

_“Yes, sweetling?”_

_“What happens to an Elf after they’ve been made to leave an Elven territory?”_

_“You know the stories of the Kinslayings of Old in our history however. Sad times those were. No one rightly knows that answer, my child. I would have to make a guess and say that it depends on the Elf that has left their homeland behind. If the Elf has a strong enough spirit, then perhaps they find a way to survive. If the Elf has a weakened spirit… Well no one is quite certain what happens for those Elves.”_

Someone chuckles softly behind her before crunching audibly, making that bit of memory disappear in her mind as the little goat startles as well before bleating loudly and then trotting away to join its fellow grazers while the newcomers comes to a stop a little bit front of her. Bombur and Bifur, both are family to Bofur and yet two Dwarves that didn’t actively try to seek her company as often as most of the others did save for Gandalf.

“Hello Bifur. Bombur.”

They both nod at her in response before Bifur starts signing something at her as she watches his hands move.

“He wishes to know if you are alright. As do I.”

She glances at them before looking away towards the water. Was she truly alright? The answer could be yes, but there was also dread in her heart and perhaps even a little fear. The forests of Mirkwood, her once home, were dangerous to even those with knowledge of how best to survive and journey through it. Even with her experience and knowledge of the forest, it would surely have changed during all the time she had been away from it. Would the secret paths that she had once used still be there? Or would they have been reclaimed by the forest and made all the more dangerous than they had been before? 

How would the Company fair under the branches of the old trees?

What would happen to them or to her if they were caught by the Woodland Guard and brought before Thranduil?

Even with these thoughts and their questions, she makes herself nod slowly as she looks back to them.

“I am well.. Just uncertain about what will happen once we reach the forest. King Thranduil is not overfond of strangers moving through his lands on even the best of days. I do not know what will happen to any of you or myself if we are caught by the Woodland Guard.”

Bifur is suddenly there in her face, signing something to quick for her to catch though she sees Bombur nod just as quick while chewing on the carrot in his hand.

“Aye, Bifur here is right. You are my brother’s One and we’ll not let anything happen to you or he if either of us can help it.”

She tilts her head at that.

“You do not care that your brother’s One is of Elven kind?”

Bifur shakes his head quickly as he growls something out in the most ancient words of the Dwarven language and Bombur frowns.

“You know well how our people are, Liasia. We are devoted to our heart crafts and slow to find or love for anything beyond that. Some never do and are forever happily devoted to their heart craft. No one here questions that rightness of you being my brother’s One or cares much that you are not a Dwarf yourself. Any that do shall face the swords and axes of Bifur, myself, and the rest of the Company.”

Her lips quirk slightly upwards in a shape of a smile.

“How fortunate for an Elf such as myself to have gained such bonds with Dwarves.”

A soft chuckle that has long since then become familiar to her, comes from behind them as a booted pair of familiar feet come towards them.

“And you are surely more deserving of such bonds than any other Elf, dear Elf.”

As he comes around to stand in front of her, he looks pleased to have found her though she had not been hiding from him or any of the others. Not really. Though troubled she might be in her heart and mind, she can see the concern that he doesn’t hide in his eyes and body as he kneels beside her. 

“Are you well?”

She nods even as he snorts softly when she speaks her answer.

“I am well. Though troubled perhaps by... an uncertainty of what to expect when the Company enters that forest tomorrow.”

His hand takes hers and squeezes it gently, his expression, she notes in her mind, is full of love and concern likely for her own mental state as his brother and cousin leave them alone.

“No matter what happens, just remember that you are the treasure of my heart. I will not allow us to be parted even by your kin when relations between us have only just started to grow into something more.”

Love and feelings of warmth for this handsome, beautiful Dwarf fills her heart joining with her Heart Song, as a longing to be joined with him slowly begins to fill her being. She takes one of his hands, placing it over her heart and puts her hand over his as her forehead meets his even with the cloth of his hat between them.

She breathes in his scent, that smell of both a miner and a toymaker who makes wooden toys, committing it into her memory.

“And you are mine. I do not like the thought of being parted from your side, Bofur.”

Brave in the moment, she nuzzles his nose with hers before kissing him sweetly and then takes his bottom lip between her teeth nipping lightly as he groans softly. His hand tightens on her tunic in an attempt to pull her even closer than she already is even as the agonized groan of one of her nephews comes from behind her.

“Ah Mahal, my eyes! Auntie please! That’s not something a nephew wants to see out in the open.”

She doesn’t pull away, keeping her eyes only on Bofur’s darkening heated gaze and grins slightly.

“Hello you both, boys. Did you need something?”

There’s a polite cough behind her even as Bofur slowly grins in turn.

“We were coming to find you in the hopes of providing distraction. Though it appears you and Bofur found an answer or two for that..”

At the tone in her eldest nephew’s voice, she does turn her head to meet his calm gaze.

“If it pleases you both, I could perhaps find you both later?”

“We would like that.”

Fíli nods slightly with a small smile on his face even as he starts to drag his brother off to go bother one of the others. Her attention shifts completely back to the Dwarf in front of her, who has started giving some attention to her neck and she sighs softly, eyes falling shut as her body relaxing under his attention.

“Perhaps we should move this elsewhere? Unless you wish to have an audience?”

He growls low into the skin of her neck even as one hand moves daringly under her tunic for all to see, settling on her waist. 

“... No, as much as I want to have you here and now, I don’t want the others to see what beautiful exquisite treasure I have claimed with you.”

She shivers as that hand moves further up her waist to her shift and as he continues to give the very lightest of attentions to her neck, igniting a fire under her skin. Her left hand moves seemingly of its own accord to his upper thigh and squeezes lightly earning a growl in response.

In her mind, she supposes that she really shouldn’t be surprised at the reedy tone in her voice.

“Bofur, daring sweet Bofur, let us move elsewhere before we go further. Perhaps that bed in the room we have shared such sweet kisses in?”

Bofur makes a soft sound that she doesn’t quite know what to identify it as except as a combined sound of longing, amusement, and something like growl before drawing into a heated kiss before making her stand up and then getting up himself then all but dragging her back towards the house.

They are followed of course by the sounds of the Company shouting encouragements after them. Once inside the house and then into their shared room where he tugs her down into down a long kiss before pulling back despite the small disappointed sound they both make.

“Any rules?”

She tilts her head, watching him with dark eyes and quirked bitten lips.

“Only that there are no claiming marks in plain visibly areas. It would lead to unneeded attention and trouble that we don’t need anymore of tomorrow. As for anything else we do in here, I am uncertain that we need rules except for that.”

“Right. Of course.”

He nods quickly, valiantly ignoring the strain through his own trousers as he watches her before she takes him over to the bed and then leans down to his ear, her breath hot on his skin.

“Just remember that we are essentially married should we go further. You are aware of this yes?”

“Yes. I am very aware of that. I want you as mine, Liasia.”

Again he nods quickly as he nudges her legs apart, to move his left leg in between them and sticks both hands under her tunic, revelling in her shivers as his hands move across her skin before there’s a frenzy of movement to get all cloth barriers from between them then she’s pulling him with her onto the bed. His fingers tangling in her undone braid. And his mouth is on her, learning the taste of her skin and the soft sound he hears her make as he sucks sharply at a small spot in the shadowed line of one breast.

He cups one breast, then moving up to kiss the underside of her chin as he lets her see the unspoken question in his eyes.

“I am quite certain, Bofur. This is what I want and I want it with you. You, my Heart One. The One I wish to place and trust my heart with. The one with whom I want to share my life. Husband in my heart.”

She makes a thin high sound when he pulls away, his breath hot against her skin.

“I want that too, oh beautiful wife.”

She doesn’t reply verbally to him, only puts her hand against the back of his back, her fingers getting into his hair and tilts her head to allow him more access to her neck which his mouth is immediately on; slowly kissing a wet line down it to her pale collarbone as she sighs and he chuckles into her skin, groaning softly when she reaches down to take hold of his butt cheeks, squeezing them.

He listens to her soft keening sighs as he maps the plains of her soft muscled stomach with both mouth and tongue, listening as she murmurs words in her native tongue as he prepares her to take his girth inside her. 

“What are those words you’re saying?”

She manages to gasp out words as her body writhes under his attention and he kisses one of her breasts lightly before running his tongue around hard pink nipples.

“Elven vows… remind me to teach you.. the words.. after Mirkwood..”

Her grasp on his shoulders tightens as he slides into her body and they lose themselves to instinctual motions and to mutual pleasure. Later as her Heart Song sings of its completion in their bond, she lays close to him on the bed wearing only her skin, she’s tracing a line along black inked multi circular markings on his left arm and delights in the way he shivers under her touch.

“I did not know you had such intricate tattoos, Bofur.”

He’s grinning slightly when she looks up to meet his gaze.

“Most Dwarves have them, even some of our dams have them. What do you think of them?”

She kisses the tattoo lightly and smiles at him as she rubs her thumb across it.

“I think it suits you rather well. What’s this one?”

He follows the length of her arm towards the hand that has strayed towards his stomach where another marking, a little less intricate than the tattoo on his arm and frowns at it.

“It is a mourning mark. Dwarves get them inked after they lose someone dear to them.”

Her face loses the smile and she gives him a long enigmatic look as though she was attempting to read his soul.

“Who have you lost that you put a mourning mark in your skin for, Bofur?”

He snorts softly at the question. What haven’t they lost?

“What haven’t the Dwarves of Erebor lost?”

After a moment or two, she sighs and returns her attention to tracing his tattoo before leaning over him to catch his mouth in a chaste kiss before leaving the bed to find her clothes. He rolls over to watch her.

“Where are you going?”

She glances over her shoulder as she calmly finishes dressing herself and begins to rebraid her hair as she turns around to face him.

“I am going to see Fíli and Kíli like I told them that I would. I will return to you after I see to them.”

“Alright.”

He watches her leave before flopping over onto his back and smiling at the ceiling in some disbelief of his own luck.

A while later, she finds both of the young Princelings with Bilbo engaged in what looked like was an activity of teaching the Hobbit how to use his Elven dagger or ‘letter opener’ as she had heard it called a few times. Fíli nods with a small smile on his face to her as she joins him on the rock that he sitting on while giving Bilbo pointers on how best to hold himself and how best to grip the hilt.

“Hello Aunt. How nice of you to join us.”

“Well met, nephew. What are you young Dwarves up to?”

He grins at her and then gestures at where his brother going through the motions of holding a sword correctly with the Hobbit.

“Bilbo asked us to give him some pointers on how to use his little sword before we go to Mirkwood tomorrow.”

She nods calmly.

“So I see. Why did he approach you though and not one of the others?”

The young Dwarf shrugs lightly.

“I think he still finds the others to be a little bit intimidating still.”

“Hmm.”

Save for the sound of metal against metal and Fíli occasionally went over to them to either correct a stance or give instructions to his brother or to Bilbo. She watched them mostly in silence with knowing distant eyes, occasionally giving pointers of her own.

“Auntie?”

She looks towards her younger nephew, who has switched places with his brother and makes a small gesture with her hand for him to go on with asking his question.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any idea of what we can expect tomorrow?”

A glance around them, shows that Bilbo’s lesson had halted for the moment to hear her response to the question, so she shrugs lightly.

“I know not. Much will have changed in the forests of… Mirkwood in the time that I have spent away from it. It will for certain have its own dangers that we will have to contend with. The Elves who reside there though… are as dangerous as Beorn has said they would be. I myself am certainly more dangerous than I appear to be.”

A thought comes to her and she blinks rapidly, her thoughts turning quickly over what had crossed over her mind.

“Aunt Liasia?”

She looks up to meet their concerned gazes.

“Give me your word that you will not address me by that when we are in the forest.”

“Why?”

“It would cause more than a few problems for us if we happen to encounter any of the elves in the forest and they overhear then report to the King. My own presence will already cause enough problems with the Elves. I only ask this of you while our venture takes the Company through the forest… when yo - we reach the other side.”

Bilbo looks on with a small frown as both of her dear boys quite unhappily swear to abide by her word until the Company was safely on the other side of the forest.

When she returns with a quiet Bofur to their bed after dinner that night, she only asks that they hold each other close wearing nothing aside from their own skins while they share sweet, sweet kisses. In the darkness of their room, she stares at the wall while listening to Bofur’s deep sleep sounds.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a bit distracted from this one lately, I apologize. I wanted to get this chapter out before RL decides to be active for a bit.
> 
> If there are any errors please point them out. They are entirely my own.
> 
> Elvish:
> 
> brûn ûl -> old ghost
> 
> Celebothwen -> Silver War or Battle Maiden
> 
> Celebhîriel -> Silver Lady

Part of her wishes that they could delay this part of the journey towards the Lonely Mountain and Erebor through the forest home of her people, but she knows it can not be done. As such it leaves her short tempered with her heart beating a rapid staccato and the rest of the Company quickly learn not to speak to her unless it is absolutely necessary.

One of the ponies nudges her shoulder with a soft whinny and she pets its head absentmindedly before she helps Bilbo onto its back first then gets on herself behind him quietly. Feeling eyes on her, she looks up to meet Bofur’s gaze as he smiles brightly at her and there’s a painful twinge in her heart before she forces herself to smile back with a slight nod at him.

He is able to hold her gaze before she makes herself look away.

She hears well the quiet exchange between their host and Mithrandir yet she doesn’t say anything while keeping her eyes on the road before Thorin interrupts them, trying to get the Wizard to join them.

All too quickly she finds herself with the Company on the edge of her old home and finds that it is hard to name the emotions in her heart.

She can also sense an unfamiliar dark magic laying over the forest that she does not recognize. It had not yet been on the forest in the days when she had left. Something about it, feels as though the magic is trying to reach towards them though for what purpose she does not know. She does not like it one bit.

It doesn’t feel a thing the old magic of the forest that used to call to her senses and remind her of the duty that she had once held herself to so long ago.

Gandalf speaks and she stiffens as she feels all eyes turn to her.

“This is not the Greenwood of Old as you would remember it. Do not look for old comforts here. You may not find them as you once knew them. There is a stream that you should be wary of for it has enchantments upon it meant to ensnare the unwary mind. Do not stray from the path, it will be lost to you and remain that way should you try to find it again.”

She remains quiet by biting the edges of her tongue to keep herself from snapping out an answer to his statement. She knows well enough that there is danger within the forests of her old home. It may not have been seen easily, but she knows so well that there is danger within the very forest in front of them and they are about to go into its hidden depths.

“Is there no way that we could take?”

In that moment she only hears the loud, rapid beating of her heart in her ears over Gandalf’s answer to Bilbo’s question and tries to calm it down. Her attention will need to be completely on the forest and the dangers presented if she wants to help the Company reach the otherside of the forest alive.

Slowly she moves forward towards one of the trees in the path courtyard and reaches out to touch the bark on it with closed eyes as she sighs. It feels cool to her touch and yet so very sick at the time. This tree is one of many trees in the forest that are so much older than she. It almost makes her feel like a much younger elf again.

Oh, but how her soul now sings again for the forest that had once been home and very dear to her heart. Her heart though bonded in its song and love to her Dwarf sings another quieter song for the forest still held a place in her heart.

A hand on her back brings with a cleared throat that comes from her side and she is rather surprised when she blinks open wet eyes as she looks down to meet Dori’s questioning gaze as a rainstorm begins around them.

“Are you alright?”

She looks back towards her hand where it lays on the old tree’s trunk then slowly back to him and slowly nods at the question.

“I am. I will have to be, if I am to help guide the Company safely through the forest.”

The white silvery haired Dwarf makes an unhappy sound as Ori comes to his side while she turns to look over the Company, determined to not meet the eyes of her chosen, her mind taking note of the new absence of the Wizard, and looks to her leader, her King. Holding his gaze, she reaches out with her right hand, extends her fingers to their longest length, and turns her palm up towards the sky, ignoring the drops of water that land in it.

“Permission to lead the Company through this forest, My Lord?”

He inclines his head in a nod once.

“You may lead. No doubt you know the safer paths through this forest.”

She glances towards the forest and turns away to start walking towards the forest, hearing the others start to follow as she mutters to herself.

“Aye. Though it remains to be seen if those safer paths are still safe.”

As they walk into the forest, she keeps a watchful eye on the trees around them. It wouldn’t do for them to be caught by surprise. So she watches as squirrels of different colors dart across the path. She does her best to keep them on the safer paths without leaving the path that had been made so long ago now by her people.

Of the Company, Bofur tends to stick the closest to her side when they stop for breaks on the path and camp for a time.

There are times when she also thinks that she might have seen an Elf or two following them, but it turns out more often than not to be her imagination trying to get loose under the dark magic of the forest. 

Yet she can’t shake the feeling of being watched by something dark.

Two days later they run out of the food Beorn had given them and she has to use her Elven speed to outsmart quick witted squirrels while keeping the Dwarves on the right path. The next day they come to the small enchanted river and Bilbo finds the little boat on the other side some feet away. 

They use it to cross without any problems.

After that she feels a dark malaise settling on her senses and begins to lose her sense of the days to the magic on the forest. She’s startled a bit from the stupor her mind was trapped within when the spiders and the Woodland Guard burst into action around them.

Bilbo, she notes with some surprise has vanished in the confusion as the Woodland Guard fell all the spiders in sight before turning their attention to the disheveled Company. As much as she wants to find him for Thorin, she distracted when the Elven Guard taken note of her presence among a Company of Dwarves and start talking in Elvish before switching to Common every so often to tell the Dwarves to move.

Part of her is slightly pleased that he hasn’t yet been found by their new hosts.

“Celebothwen.”

“Celebhîriel.”

“What are they sayin’?”

She hears one of the Dwarves growl whisper to the others as their Elven captors whisper and stare at her with pointed fingers when they think she isn’t looking at them. Or that she is even listening to them as they herd the Company towards Elven city.

She hears the Dwarves grunt their displeasure both at not being answered immediately and the younger Elven Guards pushing at them. It is only when they stop just briefly some ways before entering the city that she takes the risk to answer her Dwarves.

“They are saying, ‘Silver Lady’ and ‘Silver War or Battle Maiden’.”

There’s a careful nudging at her shoulder and she turns her head to look at the unsmiling Elf standing close to her. A dark auburn haired She-Elf with shadowed hazel eyes. She’s never seen a auburn haired Sindar Elf before only ever blond and light brown.

Something about the other Elf gives her the feeling that this one is much, much younger than her and that her eyes have already so much. Part of her wonders what this Elf could have seen to make her seem so grim. 

She glances slightly at the younger She-Elf now behind her shoulder, memorizing her features. 

Must be a Silvan Elf then.

0

The whispers about her presence among the Company stops before the doors that lead to the throne chamber and the throne of King Thranduil. Part of her screams quietly that the strong scent of sickness and malaise that lays upon everything it has touched. Silent tears prickle and then dry before they leave her eye lids.

How could her fellows have lived this way for so long?

Everything gives the appearance of having been ignored. The sickness of the trees, the giant spiders that they had witnessed in combat with the Woodland Guard. Why were they ignored for so long?

“So this is famed goodwill of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. Taking people, innocent travelers, as prisoners against their will?”

Without even looking directly at him, she hear the snarling sneer in Thranduil’s voice when he starts to speak.

“Dwarves are never just innocent creatures. Though it would only be when they annoy me ever so much.”

“Is it a crime to wander while starving? Unable to find help or find food within the forest?”

She watches as Thranduil slowly leans forward on his throne ever so slightly, his expression staring down at them is as blank as she remembers it always being.

“You forget that you wander on roads that were made by my kin, Dwarf. Did I give you leave to wander through my lands or use those paths? I think not.”

His cold, dark eyes alight on her and she meets his hard stare unflinching.

“I see now. You even have one who has long been considered to be a ghost by my people. I am almost surprised to see her here. She of all would know the punishment for returning to lands once banished from.”

She raises an eyebrow at hearing that as everyone around the two of them tenses.

“I know of how the younger races of this world handle such a thing. But I did not know that you, Thranduil, son of King Oropher, had turned to such a thing when you turned your back to the doings of the world. I am only here to guide this group through the forest to the Iron Hills, they wished to see their kin there.”

“Indeed.”

His mouth curls at the corner slightly.

“Then perhaps your heart would grieve for you to hear this.”

“I did not come all this way to hear the lying words of a sulking child playing at being a king.”

She stares past his shoulder as the area is filled with tension and the Woodland King merely raises an eyebrow.

“No? Then hear this, your siblings are dead, brûn ûl. Your own beloved father may soon follow them.”

Her eyes flash and then become hardened steel as the only outward reaction she gives to the King’s honeyed words. Glancing around his eyes catch onto the wide eyed stares the other Elves are giving the two Elves on the dias before them as the Dwarves look on in bewilderment.

“You lie.”

The Elven King tilts his head slightly, his own eyes hard as one of his hands vanishes into his robes.

“Do I? What reason would I have to lie? I am not the one who left their people behind for banishment to help such thankless creatures. These however… these little trinkets are something that belonged to your father and your family did they not? That should be proof enough for you.”

His hand reappears clutching something from within his robes and with surprising care, drops the items into the hands of a surprised guard who brings the items carefully as though he were holding a treasure and gently puts the items in Liasia’s waiting hands. 

Silently she looks at the items in her hands in reverent confusion as they all watch her before she is soon staring up at the cold King with a gaze that could seemingly melt flesh from bone and hew jewels from rocks. The slightest shift in her body like she might move brings the attention of the guards onto her and their hands tighten on their weapons.

“Why do you have these? How did you get them? These should be with my father. Or another family member if he can not keep them himself. You know the laws of the Eldar as well as I regarding family treasures, Thranduil.”

The King only shrugs and waves them away, a cold gleam in his dark eyes as he stares at her.

“It matters not. Put them in the dungeons.”

The young silent Prince standing in the shadow of his father’s throne watches them leave the room with dark, shrewd eyes as the group is led away from the throne. From a different corner of the vast room, a small Hobbit cloaked in shadow decides to have a look around and find a way out of the Elven kingdom while rescuing his companions.

0

The Dwarves curse the Elven guard in Khuzdul as they shoved into cells, she cradles the treasures given to her against her bosom as she herself is shoved into a cell with Bofur, Bifur and Bombur. She stares silence at the back wall of their cell until the guards leave before she allows her body to collapse into itself.

She has no idea how long her siblings have been dead and her own beloved father might soon follow them. The one being in the entire world who, save for her mentors, had taught her everything.

The one Elf who had taught her to think of others before herself, without any thought of receiving a reward for service given, and help them in their hour of need. 

The one Elf who didn’t often keep to the naming traditions of their people and had allowed her the grace of using the name her siblings had lovingly gifted her before she had reached her maturity years as her chosen kilmessë despite the loudly vocalized thoughts of some of the more traditional Elves who had made their disapproval known and refused to acknowledge it as.

Her own father and she may lose him before laying eyes on him one last time just as she was trying to reconcile the loss of her brother and sister. He would not be meeting her mother in Valinor when the ships sailed and instead would reside in the Halls of Mandos when he died.

Or perhaps her kind, clever father would find some way to be with her mother again.

A hand between her shoulders draws her attention back to the present and she slowly looks up to meet the gazes of both Bombur and Bofur while a displeased Bifur muttered to himself as he attempted to pace the length of their cell. She notes silently when she glances over her shoulder that the prison guards are not with them for the moment.

“What did the poncy Elf give you that he wasn’t supposed to have?”

He wonders if he’s asked the wrong question when her eyes darken and she pulls her hands away from her chest to reveal a necklace with small jewels made from various stones in varying colors all strung together. There is a soft dull tone in her voice when Liasia finally speaks, he thinks her voice might carry softly in the still air.

And wonders if the rest of Company might be listening.

“These belong to my family. I never finished telling any of you about Elven marriage in the night it was asked about. Two of these little jewels are what the parents of the bride would give to both groom and bride in a traditional wedding ceremony. Usually given with two gold rings at that time.”

He watches as Bombur eyed them curiously as he tilts his head slightly to the side.

“What the other ones for then? Some kind of decoration?”

Her breath hitches in the still air as her eyes close and her hands tighten around the necklace as she shakes her head. There is a soft tone of sadness and pain in her voice when she finally speaks again.

“No. They would have been given to my siblings were they living and marrying their own partners.”

His heart feels as though it is breaking itself apart for this one Elf, his One, to hear the pain in her voice and not know what he could do for her. Though he isn’t sure she would appreciate his efforts at this very moment. Then his eye is caught by what looks like a small crudely made white ring tucked in between the jewels.

“And that little white ring in the center? Who’s that belong too?”

Slowly her eyes open again and find the little white ring on the necklace, for a few small moments she stays silent before snorting softly and looking at him with a calm expression.

“It belonged to my mother. It was among the first things I made when I began learning the work of a smith in my younger years. And I gave it to her despite how crudely my first attempt at jewelry was made. Though I do not know why it is here and not with my mother.”

“Ah, well it is a pretty little thing.”

She snorts softly.

“A compliment for a shoddily made piece of jewelry? Tell me you are not trying to play on my non existent vanity, Bofur.”

He shrugs slightly with a small grin on his face as the Company and they settle in for however long they would be waiting in the cells.

0

Part of him wished that he had a map to go by as he tried to find his way through the elven king’s domain and find a way to rescue them from their unjust holdings before Durin’s Day came and passed them by. All he had done so far was manage to get himself hopelessly lost instead.

Sweet Giver above where was he even now?

Every blasted hallway in the kingdom looks the same and there are no doors with visible markings on them that might shed some light on just where he is or where the rest of the Company is being held. Valar above please light the right pathway.

Just then voices come down the hallway and even though they can’t see him, he shoves himself into a corner to listen in on their words.

“... Did you see? The Celebothwen has returned to the woodland realm.”

“So? What does it matter if she has returned? I doubt she would do so willingly.”

“Why?”

There’s a soft snort from one of them.

 

“Well for one the King won’t allow for it. Some sort of fight between them years ago if you remember. Two she came here to his lands leading the Dwarf Lord, Oakenshield and his company of Dwarves; so who knows what outlandish and fiendish habits she might have learned among the younger races of the world.”

Curiosity and a protective feeling wash over his heart as he listens to the two Elves talk about his friends.

Silence falls as he watches the two Elves walk past his hiding spot as they carried some blankets, a pitcher of what he thought might be water, and towels with them as they walked the hall talking quietly amongst themselves. He follows them down their path until eventually the two Elves come to a chamber of rooms where another Elf frowns at a book in their hands as they mutter under their breath.

One of the Elves carrying supplies puts their load on a small rounded wooden table top and turns to their now silent companion with a raised eyebrow. They look up and stare between the other two Elves.

“Do you think it would matter if we told him that she has returned? That maybe we could ask the King to make someone else carry for him.”

Frowning still, the Elf reading the book, closes it quickly with a snap that rings in the still air and the other two Elves stare at them in surprise.

“No. The King will not allow the Othwen to remain under the comfort of these trees long. You know that as well as I. As it is, this one is now of our einior and her father will not last long enough to get care from anyone else. He is Fading. It will not be long now. You know that as well as I do.”

Liasia’s father. 

Something twists inside his heart, sorrow and anger molding together. These Elves were talking of the Elf he had come to think of as a friend, her own father was so very close by. So very near and it was likely that Thranduil would not let her see him before they were able to leave the Elven kingdom. Perhaps he could find her father and talk to him for her?

“... the best we can do for him right now, is care for him and his needs as best we can even with the Feast approaching us.”

“But..”

“No. You will do only as ordered and as I say. Understood?”

Quietly he waits for the three of Elves to leave and do their duties elsewhere. Once he’s certain they’re completely gone, remaining under the cover of his little ring he explores the room and checks the doors that aren’t locked and how he wishes he had something to pick the locks of the doors that are locked.

Eventually he comes to an open door that is ajar and pokes his head through blinks at the green robed Elf who appeared to be seemingly asleep on the bed. He doesn’t dare approach the bed after he edges into the room even as the mouth of the prone Elf begins to open his eyes slightly and calls out softly.

“Aváeira. Míreth. Nethrien. Feredir.”

A sad comes from the door and Bilbo looks to see one of the Elven healers standing there. Looking both young and sad as he slips around them and back out of the healing chamber with the intent to find the others.

Only once does he look back to see the Elf gently wipe the prone Elf’s forehead with a wet cloth.

0

The lighting of their little prison is dim when he opens his eyes and blinks. His brother and cousin are sleeping, though Bifur appears to having one of his restless sleeping nights. And he’s not sure what Liasia is doing, she might be sleeping though he doesn’t know for certain. She’s been tense since that first meeting with Thranduil. 

But something still feels amiss. 

There’s a growing itch in the back of his mind that is new and he can sense the barest hints of something within the itch there.

Curious he silently examines and then mentally follows the odd sensation until he finds the presence of something else on the other side of the line. Curious he pokes gently at it until the presence seems to have had enough prodding and finally pushes back against him. 

He gets a brief sense of annoyed bemusement and then finds himself meeting one unreadable stare from Liasia, she nods slightly in acknowledgement of his notice before moving towards him, putting her fingers gently against his mouth as though she thought to forestall his questions. She puts her mouth next to his ear.

“Not now. Hold your words for another time and I will do my best to answer then.”

She pulls back and he nods slightly as she silently returns to her seat near the door of their cell. For a brief few moments there is silence until footsteps are heard and a guardsman is standing at their cell staring down at Liasia.

“Othwen. The King will see you.”

Slowly she stands from where she had sat and meets the guard’s gaze unflinching as she answers in kind.

“Then take me.”

The door opens and she slips out the opening on pale silent feet. The door closes, is locked, and then they are gone. Cursing softly, he goes to the door and watches as their shadows disappear. 

Shaking his head, he looks up to meet the concerned eyes of both Fíli and Kíli. He tries to give them what he hopes is a reassuring look and nod before he turns back to his now awake brother and cousin. In his heart he hopes that she will be alright wherever they are taking her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to update this story into the new year between Thranduil and Liasia. As Thranduil's wife has no canon name that I know of or can find in my searching, I had to come up with something to use for her as she will likely be mentioned from time to time in this story and likely have a story to share with Thranduil in the series itself. Depends on how my plans go.
> 
> **Elvish used** :
> 
> * Gelinnas - Joyful Will

Three guards escort her out of the dungeons and down long hallway paths, some lined with silent elves watching with curious eyes. And all of them were on her as she walked with her eyes focused on the world in front of her.

Eventually they come to a closed door that she doesn’t recognize. The guard in front of her knocks on it twice before the voice of Thranduil is heard.

“Come in.”

The guard opens the door and leads her inside, the other two guards are on her heels. When their little group stops in the center of it and bows to the Elvenking where he stands by a window, she takes the chance to look around. The room itself is plain, bare of decorations would have once hung upon the walls to indicate the station of the room. Or to whom it had belonged too.

The only non living things in the room are a fireplace and a round table with two chairs on either of it.

When her gaze turns to the King, she finds him watching her as though he thought that she was some puzzle that needed to be solved. She suppresses a shiver and steels herself for what might come.

“Leave us.”

The guards bow once more before retreating to wait outside a closed door. For several moments there is only blessed silence between them as she watches the Elf King pour a glass of wine for himself.

“I am surprised to see you still alive, Othwen. I would have thought for sure that the wide world beyond our borders would have devoured your soul as it slowly killed you.”

Saying nothing, she focuses on a point in the room beyond him. There’s a soft clink as Thranduil delicately places his glass of wine down on the table next to him.

“Nothing to say yet? Very well. But you will answer any questions that I have, Othwen. I know you have answers within your shrewd mind that I seek.”

“You hold no power over me. I am no longer yours to command, oh King. I have not been under your rule for quite some time if you recall.”

Silence follows her words, before it is followed by the soft rustling of Thranduil’s garments as he leans towards her slightly. Then comes the sensation of something sharp and cold next to her cheek before it vanishes.

A thinly veiled threat in his action though she does not let him see her reaction to it.

“Nevertheless, you will tell me what I wish to know.”

“Never.”

She notes the silence from the King as he tilts his head slightly with a finger gently touching his lips as he stares at her appraisingly.

“If you tell me what the Dwarves are up too, Othwen, then I might consider allowing you to return to these forests that once were your home and retake your former position.”

The declaration as he intended it to be is a trap, and though she knew that it still tears strongly at her beating heart. At her very resolve. For a few terrible moments, she is wracked with indecision beating away at her as the deepest most treacherous parts of her soul sing with longing for the forest and its trees. For a few terrible moments, she wants very much to speak the words. To say them through an unwilling mouth and perhaps see her father once more before she lost him altogether.

Then Bofur appears in her heart and mind. She remembers his smile, the little moments that they’ve shared together on the journey towards the Mountain, and their love for each other, as his smile chases away her indecision and restrengthens her resolve to not give in to the silken words of the Elf King. Or to the temptation of his offer.

“They wished for safe passage through the forest to the Iron Hills and see their kin. I was chosen to help them because they believed that I still knew the safest paths in the forest.”

“Indeed. So it seems that you do not accept my offer to lift your banishment from this forest and my halls. And that the Dwarves have somehow bewitched your senses to their will. Very well then.”

The sound of the door opening reaches her ears, signalling the return of the two guards that had brought her before the Elven King. 

“Take her back to the cells. But be sure to keep her separate from the Dwarves. Perhaps some time away from them will make you, Othwen, more receptive to the ways of your Elven kin once more and break whatever hold they may have on you.”

She hears the false sorrow in Thranduil’s voice as the guards enter the room and tie a binding around her wrists. As though they expected that she somehow had a plan to flee the kingdom and go into the forest, leaving her Dwarves behind in their hands. 

“Come.”

She looks up from her contemplation of the floor to meet Thranduil’s intent gaze as one of the guards tugs her at her arm.

“Come, Lady Othwen.”

She tilts her head at him even as the guards turn her around and start leading her out.

“I hold doubt, great lord, that your wife, Gelinnas, would be pleased to see what you have allowed yourself to become.”

His gaze sharpens into hardened steel at the mention of his late wife’s name as one of the guards seems to trip over their own feet before righting themselves. The other one looks at her in askance even while they depart and the door shuts silently behind them.

The three of them go down a series of hallways that she thinks that she recognizes rather well and suppresses a quiet laugh around the thought that she thinks she hears near silent feet padding along them. Part of her wonders if her escorts hear the same thing, but she does not ask and keeps her silence.

Eventually they come to a room that smells musty yet strongly old wine. It must have been one of the rooms that had been used for wine storage. Silently the guards push her into the room.

The door shuts soundlessly behind her, enfolding her in silent darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Ring makes a brief appearance as a surprise meeting begins, Fili tries to ask questions, and the Company reunites upon their escape from the Mirkwood to Laketown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So its been a while since this story saw an update only because a lot of life shenanigans have been happening lately. So here is this chapter and the next one will be part of it as well while sharing the activities of the Company in Laketown before the dramatic chase by one angry Dragon through Erebor.
> 
> In Liasia's part of this, it is the beginning of a time skip and she won't have any idea how long she has been kept away from the Company though she will try to find answers.
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> _Bold italics belong to the Ring_  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> _Normal italics are Liasia's own doubts_
> 
>  
> 
> Another note of interest, I'll be updating Taurë ar’ Ored Óre with a chapter or two as soon as I have a spare moment to do so.

He watches from the cell he shares with his brother as Bofur paces the length of the cell that he shares with his brother and cousin, knowing in the quiet of his heart that his aunt has been gone from them for far too long. His ears had picked up low murmurs from other Elves that the King had asked for her presence, but that had been many hours ago.

Has something happened to her?

He would have to try asking one of their guards when one of them came down to patrol the cells. So he settles down near the door despite his brother’s protests and decides to wait for one of the Elves to patrol their little prison cells.

So he waits.

And waits.

And he waits, not giving up in the slightest even when each new Elf stares at him in silence before muttering something in their own tongue before retreating. He doesn’t have to look around to know that the attention of the Company is upon him for these interactions.

Finally the strange red haired Elf that had been among the group to capture them and put them in these cells appears before him, appearing rather calm and bemused for all that she may have needed be there.

“The guards have told me of your unceasing questions about the Othwen.”

He nods once, not bothering to correct the Elf on his aunt’s name for the moment.

“Right.”

“Well?”

“Yes. I was wondering why she has been taken and now seemingly separated from us.”

“Ah. Of course.”

Though her expression did not change, he thought that he might have seen a bit of curiosity in the she-Elf’s hazel eyes. She looks over her shoulders both ways down the path along the cells.

“Our King believes that you and your companions seem to hold some form of magic over the senses of the Othwen. And believes that parting her from you, will return clarity to her senses.”

He could hear the unhappy sounds and protests - or growled grunts in the case of Bifur - that the rest of the Company was making, though he did not hear much from Bofur for all that their cells were across from each other.

His brother however surprises him by nearly throwing himself harshly against the bars of the cell door and is frowning.

“That is untrue! We hold no magic over her senses. She has only ever been our friend, an ally to our people, and dedicated to her duty by helping us in our journey.”

For a few moments, no one says anything and he watches the Elf for any reaction to his brother’s words when she doesn’t immediately respond to him. After a long silent moment, she finally raises an eyebrow.

“Indeed.”

She turns his gaze back to him and then she is gone as quickly as she had arrived in the first place. He turns his gaze onto his brother with a raised eyebrow, Kíli blinks at him.

“What?”

0

Part of him wonders why he returns to the sick room each day and watches as Liasia’s father continue to Fade while she herself can not and he should be dedicating his attentions to finding a way to get the Company out of their prison and back on track to the Mountain. Get the silly Dwarves back to their Mountain so that he might be able to return home in time for spring and see to his affairs at Bag End once more.

**_Of course we must do this, my love. One must always have something to use against troublesome Elves. With this one, it seems best to use the knowledge of family against her. Perhaps even sway her to our side._ **

Unseen by all others, he frowns to himself and stifles a sigh. The new voice in his mind is rather annoying and he has yet to figure out where it came from. He does not like it even if it does sometimes seem to speak small truths. Not that he personally thinks Liasia is troublesome Elf by any means.

“Please. Is someone there?”

Surprised he turns his eyes over to the Elf on the bed to find the older being staring with bright eyes right at his position before his eyes shift towards the door. Then he smiles slightly and coughs softly into a handkerchief.

“Do not be alarmed. The others have gone for now and thus will not see you. Please, if there is someone else here then know that my time is short and I do not wish to be alone at the end.”

For once the new voice is silent and bemused at the request, though in being the gentle hobbit that he is, he decides that he will honor the request and slips the ring from his finger. 

The Elf smiles softly at him.

“Ah. So there you are small one. We meet at last.”

“Yes. Here I am.”

They proceed to have a talk that is most interesting in his mind.

0

By the Valar, she hoped that there would come a time when she would not have to deal with Thranduil in any other lifetime to come.

The darkness of her prison is stifling and has seemingly taken a hold of her heart, as she sits in the middle of the room with her knees drawn up against her chest.

Thranduil has cut her off from the light of the stars and of the Company. From the light that is Bofur. She curses his name for that slight quietly in her mind. 

She has no idea how long she has been in the room.

How long has it been?

How many days have passed?

Had the others managed to escape in time for meeting Durin’s Day on the Mountain?

She looks up and stares unseeingly at the walls of her physical prison as her thoughts, her doubts, and her misgivings become one to form a voice soft like silk in her mind.

_They do not need you._

_No._

_Bofur does not truly love you. He is only using you._

_No. No. She knows well that Bofur truly loves her and she loves him with her whole heart._

_You will be turned aside when the Company reaches the Mountain and begin looking for the King’s gold when the Dragon is finally dealt with. And Thorin will fall to the madness of his line once inside the Mountain._

_I will not let them have that chance._

_What can you do? The Dwarves as a whole are known to be sly slippery creatures. They will betray your trust soon enough._

She does not answer this question and instead snarls silently towards the direction of the wall. After awhile she blinks into the darkness, before closing her eyes once more and trying to listen for some sort of sound. Anything that would possibly tell her all and what she wanted to know.

How long has it been?

The sudden creaking of the door of her prison has her opening both eyes immediately and blinking quickly into the sudden reintroduction of light in her little prison room. There’s the sound of shuffling booted feet and a hand lands gently on her shoulder.

“Liasia? Love?”

That voice. She has heard it often enough in her dreams and within her beating heart.

Dearest Bofur.

Finally her eyes are able to focus in the light and she sees her Dwarf. Her heart tightens at how much older he seems to have gotten in the time they have been apart. And the clothes he’s wearing seem familiar yet somehow different.

Her hand takes hold of his sleeve and she fights to keep herself from trembling at the sight of him.

“Bofur?”

Different expressions cross her Dwarf’s face as he nods seriously before taking her hands and trying to get her up on her feet.

“Yes. Come now on your feet, my lovely lady. We’re getting out of here.”

It takes a little longer than she would have liked, but she blinks and somehow she is on her feet. She eventually realizes that she is simply staring at him, drinking in the sight of her Heart One and she doesn’t mind that even as he tries to lead her in a direction he seems keen on going towards.

“Have you got her?”

She thinks she recognizes the other voice as the other sounds like voice chatter around them.

“Aye. But she isn’t acting like herself. I don’t know if -”

A softer voice, slightly harder cuts in and the noise softens to almost nothing. Immediately she misses the noise.

“We must deal with the issue later. For now, our little burglar must lead us out of here.”

Her confusion leads her in following Bofur with the others in front of them down some stairs into a cellar where she apparently manages to sneak a dagger away from a drunk group of sleeping Elves and then into a barrel. The more rational part of her mind that is slow to retake control wonders if there is an explanation for this action.

And then suddenly they are in the water.

Water that is startlingly enough to bring clarity back to her senses and it is so very, very cold.

What happens next to her recollection of the following events is confusing images of water, her Dwarven Companions throwing Orc weapons to each other that they “liberate” from their original bearers followed by a strange mash of orc shouts and elvish calls. Until eventually the water swiftly carries them away from both Orc and their Elvish captors.

She pokes her head up just enough to see that they are safe for a moment or two in the swift moving water and meets Thorin’s eyes. Strangely enough they seem to have become a little colder and a darker shade of blue that she is not used to seeing with him.

“Are you well?”

She nods once.

“Aye I am.”

He angles his head to the side slightly and gives her a look that says well enough that he doesn’t quite believe her. She sighs softly.

“Or rather I will be, now that I have the light once more.”

He blinks at her words.

“I thought as much. We were concerned when you were not brought back to our area. Thranduil seemed almost.. concerned about you.”

She snorts inelegantly.

“Indeed.”

His eyes then slide away from her to look over her shoulder.

“Now that we are free, I think you will have a hard time convincing Bofur to leave your side even for a moment.”

She frowns slightly.

“How long have I been separated from the Company?”

He shakes his head as he turns his gaze towards land and the other barrels with them, searching them with his eyes.

“That is something best left for another time.”

_You see? Even now your Lord has begun to doubt you and your loyalties._

_Quiet you._

She bows her head slightly, keeping her own eyes to the shore line. 

“Indeed.”

It takes some time, but eventually they reach the shore line and she does her best to help the others climb on the large rock outcropping jutting out into the water. Everyone is silent as they gather themselves save for Fíli protesting Thorin’s orders that they need to move soon with worried words about his brother’s wounded leg and Thorin answering that they had two minutes to bind the boy’s wound.

She wonders if she might be imagining the rankish smell of his wound.

Their meeting with the barge man is strange and yet reminds her about why she prefers to stay away from the world of Men if she can help it. And now they have to deal with a Man pointing an arrow at her Dwarves, on top of their other problems. 

As though they did not have enough to deal with already.

“Do it again and you are dead.”

She’s at his back pressing her stolen dagger into his clothes enough that he can feel it as she hisses a dark promise in his ear.

“Try it and you will be on the ground with my dagger spilling your life blood.”

Dark eyes meet hers, appraising and determined yet surprisingly to her appearing both young and old at once while staring outward beneath a stern brow.

“Stand down. Now.”

Both of them start slightly at the sharp order, their staring contest broken for the time being as she pulls away from him, sliding her dagger into a hidden spot on her ragged clothes as she slides around him to rejoin her friends. The Man stares at her silently before Balin grabs his attention and Bofur comes over to her as Nori stands watchful nearby with his brothers.

He takes her aside and she obligingly sits down on cold stone.

“Yes?”

“Are you well?”

She nods slightly.

“I am.”

He snorts softly and she is quick to try again.

“I am well enough, love. Now that I am once more in the light.”

Bofur frowns slightly, tilting his head to the side watching her. Looking for all the world like he wants to take her into his arms and never let go of her.

“What does that mean?”

“For now all I will say is that what was done to me is an relatively unknown old crime among the Eldar. Very old by all counts of time. The rest of it can wait for now.”

He looks like he wants to protest her statement, but she puts one finger against his lips and her gaze moves to where Balin is attempting to negotiate with the Man she had threatened. Bofur makes an unhappy sound as she moves away to stand near Dwalin, who acknowledges her with a soft grunt.

Eventually Balin slips up in his talks with the unknown Man and beside her she hears Dwalin start to grumble about niceties. She suppresses a snort and silently agrees with him as she turns her attention from the water to now watch the interaction of Dwarf and Man.

“What’s your hurry?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I would know who you are. What might you be doing in these parts? And why you travel with an Elven companion?”

Crossing her arms over her chest she raises an eyebrow, yet says nothing in answer as she watches the interaction between Man and Dwarf while listening for their pursuers. They have the time and the Orcs are still some ways behind them, their lead will not last for long.

Eventually an agreement is made and they are on the water in the bargeman’s boat. This Man helping them for the moment is a strange one and yet she has the feeling that there is something noble about him.

He is interesting.

0

The Man demands what little money they still have from Balin, before dumbing fish down upon her Dwarves in their respective barrels. She herself is hidden under the tenting that Man keeps on his boat.

Between them they had agreed that it would be better to hide that way as her stature and height would have made it more obvious with the fish that someone odd was hiding in a barrel and give the rest of the Company away.

So she watches and listens through the tenting as Man - Bard speaks to someone off the boat and then makes to leave as some official approaches stopping him. 

She holds her breath and watches with some surprise as the short man orders his men to start dumping the barrels of fish back into the lake before Bard speaks up and then the short man orders his men to stop what they are doing.

0

The world of Men and their various towns or cities is one of those places in Middle Earth that she has no desire to spend prolonged time in. Some Men however are honorable sorts while the rest of their kind are not, greedy souls that they are known to be.

Humans are strange little children.

Selfish, greedy, horrid to each other. And yet there some that can be brave, hardy in even the worst of conditions, and yet they can even find love.

Such strange creatures indeed to be found in the world of Men.

0

The venture in Laketown proved to be interesting. She had never had to come up through someone’s privy before. Really she would have rather snuck over the roofs of the homes to reach Bard’s home, but perhaps that would have drawn unneeded attention to herself.

But here they are now, surrounded by Bard and his children as they try to get everyone settled somewhat near a fire in the case of Bilbo. She stands near Bofur, releases a soft sound, and makes a face to tease him.

“My. What an interesting smell you have discovered there, Bofur.”

He looks up at her for a moment in shocked silence, before he grins.

“Because you smell like a bed of daisies yourself, lassie. ‘Sides I hear it is a good way to attract the women folk.”

She tilts her head with a small fond smile just for him and proceeds to sound faintly shocked.

“Really now, all the women folk?”

Looking amused and faintly abashed, he chuckles as he ducks his head before looking up at her. Somewhere off to the side, she can hear her dear nephews snorting in amusement along with some others of the Company as the boy and Bard arguing about attracting a woman - or a girl she isn’t quite sure - as the youngest girl giggles.

“Well just the one I hope.”

She raises one eyebrow.

“Indeed, just one you say?”

“Aye.”

“Well then there may well be hope for you yet, Master Bofur.”

Their little game is interrupted by the oldest daughter clearing her throat from her side. Regretfully she turns her attention away from Bofur to the girl and notes the pile of clothes in her arms before looking at the girl again.

“Yes?”

The girl shifts uncomfortably under her stare before straightening her spine and meeting her gaze completely. 

“My Lady, we have some dry clothes here that I thought might fit you. I mean if you would like to get out of those wet clothes of course.”

She wants to open her mouth and say that she is not an Elf of high status, though the looks from both Thorin and Bard are enough to dissuade her from the action so she bows her head slightly to the girl.

“As you say. Lead the way, young one.”

The girl gives her a nervous smile and leads her to another the part of the house though she still hear the activity of the others as she is led into a room where she can change from her wet clothes though they do not bother her much. 

She changes quickly into the offered clothes that seem to fit her well enough though she is not fond of the dress she is now wearing. But it will do until she can find something else more manageable to wear. Turning back she finds the girl smiling at her a bit.

“Oh good they fit. I wasn’t sure that it would fit.”

She tilts her head slightly and puts her hand over her heart.

“You have my thanks for allowing me the use of these clothes, young miss.”

“Sigrid.”

She blinks once.

“As you say, Lady Sigrid.”

The girl - Sigrid she corrects herself, makes a soft sound though doesn’t correct her however a close thing that may be.

“Come then, my father is still perhaps speaking with your companions.”

She makes a soft sound of agreement as she moves to follow her current host.


	14. Update from the Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter, just a small update

Hi folks,

For those actually reading this fic, I'm sure you've noticed the long wait times between updates everytime one happens and I apologize for that. Real life shenanigans smacked me hard in terms of creative drive for much of my writing lately. And chapter 14 in this fic has faced the brunt of that problem, so I'm rather woefully stuck on it in terms of the plans I have for the overall fic. As well as plans for the relationship between Bofur and my OC.

So.

I will also be doing a rewrite of the fic and hopefully revising while fleshing things out in it a little more will be enough to get the muse for it talking again. I'll be leaving this on hold version up for folks to read as they wish.

Thank you again for taking the time to read this fic. :-)

Hope you have pleasant day or evening wherever you might be in the world.

~LK

**Author's Note:**

> ** Given that this is entirely an AU and more or less ignoring some canon bits, I will be playing with the idea that save for Fili, Kili, and Ori, the Dwarven members of Thorin's Company actually all lived in Erebor before the attack by Smaug. Especially since the mountain easily could have been home to more Dwarven clans than just the Dwarves of Durin's Line.


End file.
